Borrowed Time
by CthuLuna
Summary: Shiva, Pirate Queen of the Waking Sea, is recruited by Duncan at her execution. This lil pirate o' mine, I'm gonna let her shine by killing darkspawn, saving Ferelden, etc. She'll make some tough decisions - worst of which require her to tone down her sadism to make the right choice. Ultimately, she'll adopt a royal bastard as a brother and have her heart conquered by a villain.
1. Borrowed Time

Borrowed Time, Ch 1

Author's Note: This is my DA fanfic with a completely new origin. It will roughly follow the events of Dragon Age: Origins and Awakening.

Disclaimer: DA belongs to Bioware, but if in their secret cloning facility they are willing to part with their sexiest male characters I would happily purchase them.

* * *

Knowing the day and hour of your death is highly overrated. Shiva dreaded the day of her execution as it slowly came for her. She was never good at waiting. Finally, end of the line. Her expression was stony. She didn't want to give the crowd before her the satisfaction of knowing she was afraid. It was fortunate her hands were bound behind her, lest these arrogant peasants saw how they shook. The constant flipping of her stomach might be the death of her instead of the noose tied around her neck. So much for the fearless Pirate Queen of the Waking Sea.

There was another who called herself 'Queen of the Eastern Seas,' but that title was self-proclaimed. She was below Shiva in cunning, skill, riches, and reputation. Shiva's title was bestowed upon her when tales of her exploits got out. The Waking Sea was one region the pirates operated. The confederation Raiders of the Waking Sea actually had operations all over the seas surrounding Eastern Thedas. From her title as queen of that particular region, she had an understood supremacy. The Raiders had no leader, however. It continued to be based on individual conquests.

In truth, Shiva had mostly operated far from the Waking Sea, when other raiders would claim their loot, she would wait like a spider to steal their riches and glory. She was fond of her title, though. As her infamy grew, her pride did similarly. It was well known that she spared none who crossed her ship. It was foolhardy as once a pirate got such a reputation more forceful opposition was inevitable. Both sides would take heavy losses. So she played nice – sort of. Surrenders were accepted and treasure was taken from their ship to hers. What they did not expect was that her men carried bags of a Qunari invention on board, placing them deep within the hold of their ship. This invention of theirs was a powder of sorts – one that would explode when paired with fire. Shiva's crew orchestrated the explosion, set off only when they were far enough away from their doomed enemy.

Her opposition soon caught on. 'Beware the raven haired lady captain,' they'd say.

'The captain of _Siren's Call_? Heh, I met her. Lookit me, still alive. The tales are rubbish, I say.'

'No, stupid sod. That's Captain Isabela. The lady captain with skin pale and cold as snow is the one to fear. She'll give ye a wink and a farewell but you won't remember her beauty when yer on the ocean floor the following dawn. She has some evil magic that lingers. Once she steps on a ship, it's a death sentence.' No warnings were given about a first mate who would pretend to be the captain so the other crew would not see their guaranteed demise. They dreaded a lady captain, as they should. Of course, she didn't get much of a warning either before said first mate and his fellow mutineers threw her overboard. But that was a different matter entirely. Luckily the tale of her downfall had not gotten out.

Another truth preferred to keep secret was that her victims had been other pirates, slavers, and smugglers. All those that stood before her now believed the stories her crew had purposely seeded in their minds – that no one was safe from her blade. Shiva used those stories to escape the dreaded the attention she would get if they knew she was a vigilante. Their support was undesired; the debates whether or not she had the right to take matters into her own hands were of no concern to her. No, she much preferred the publicity of a villain. Besides, she did execute raids proposed by officials in Llomerryn and her methods were, after all, not fabricated in the least. Beating, beheading, and stabbing, oh my!

* * *

Duncan had little time left for searching for a suitable Grey Warden recruit before he needed to return to Ostagar. He began his search in the Brecilian Forest. Duncan found the Dalish easily, but was disturbed when he heard the two most skilled warriors were tainted by a corrupted artifact. Their aid would have been welcome, and he could have taken them to undergo the Joining and be 'cured' from their more severe version of the taint. Unfortunately one of the elves disappeared during the accident and the other died before Keeper Marethari could offer temporary relief. Duncan had ventured to the ruins alone to look for the missing elf, then once again with the First, Merril, to destroy the tainted artifact. After this was done he decided to move on. There would be no aid for the Grey Wardens from the Dalish.

He traveled north, following the West Road to Denerim, where he visited the Alienage. No luck there either. Most of the elves were distrustful, especially since the day before the Arl's son Vaughn had interrupted a double wedding and kidnapped several elves, including one notably capable female rogue. She, the bride Tabris, was among the casualties, which also included her betrothed, and one of the bridesmaids. Her cousin also fought, but was arrested after his failed rescue and an attempt on the brash noble's life. The rest of the Alienage's population had only merchants, drunks with little fighting skill, and the infirm.

Duncan's next best bet was Highever. He had heard that one knight, Ser Gilmore, had served the Cousland family well. Teyrn Cousland had much respect for the Grey Wardens, unlike the heroic Teyrn of Gwaren. Highever was another days journey away. If he rose from his bed in The Crown and the Lion he might just make it by nightfall.

When he left the room, he saw that there was hardly anyone in the tavern. Duncan paid little attention to this and went outside. When he saw there was hardly anyone on the streets – odd for late morning – he felt something was amiss. He found the townsfolk outside the gate, where an execution was being held.

Duncan approached the crowd and stood in the back. The prisoner was a woman, late twenties to early thirties. Dark hair and a pale skin. She looked thin, probably from malnourishment in the dungeons, and though she was bound and standing at a distance he could see she looked athletic. Her height was average, at most. What impressed him was that she stood straight and faced her death with no fear. He could see her eyeing the crowd, almost disinterested, before he _felt_ her looking at him.

* * *

Shiva stood on the gallows and followed the line of the trap door below her with her foot, wondering if by the Maker's mercy her neck would be broken by the drop.

"Stand still, scurvy harlot." The guard was not worthy of notice, nor the Revered Mother, who was delivering a sorrowful sermon. Something about judgment, the price we pay for breaking the Maker's laws, that this is why we abandoned us, et cetera. Constable Aidan would interject, spouting laws set by people in addition to the Maker's, and would report the many of those laws Shiva violated to earn her place there. It was far more interesting to imagine what would happen when her part in this play was over, after the final jerk of her hanging body. Would the crowd cheer? She had often rejoiced in a similar victory when she and her men wiped out an opposing pirate crew and hung their captain from the bowsprit of their sinking vessel. Of course, she preferred to hang them from their ribs, which she was thankful they were not doing to her. From the way they would scream and gasp, she had deduced it was an acutely painful death, indeed.

Shiva shut her eyes and did something she hadn't done in over a decade – she prayed. She wasn't fond of religion. There was nothing wrong with faith, but the faithful would ruin it. People had an affinity for ruining things.

_Maker, we both know it wasn't supposed to be like this. I was once a normal child, sweet and naïve, destined to become a mother to 3 or more little ones and to live comfortably with an average husband in an average home. Bless those of my family that remain with this meaningless, peaceful life that was intended for me. Most of all let them never learn of this day. _

Shiva could breathe easier after she ran out of words. She remembered how she would pray until she slept when she was small, scared of what monster could be lurking in the dark.

A hot gust of wind blew past. Her worn, white clothes billowed around her like sails. The heat reminded her of the years she spent working at the forge under her master. Smithing had been her solace in an otherwise torturous situation. Her master bought her when she was fourteen years of age, intending to use her for his pleasure. He did not expect her interest in his line of work, but she proved herself to be adept and devoted. It gave him more time to sit back and leer at her, which she abhorred. After her final thought, being that she would likely be reunited with the bastard in whatever nether realm existed, she thought no more of him.

She scanned the crowd once more, accepting her fate and relieved it would soon be over. She stood straight with an expression of complete calm. The only weight on her shoulders was the weight of the noose around her neck.

She looked more closely to the people before her, those with whom she would share her final moments. A young woman with a boy in her arms stood near the center of the crowd. She was tugging at her husbands sleeve not wanting to see what was about to happen and no doubt not wanting her infant son to be exposed to such violence. They were ignored by the husband, whose neck was stretched almost comically to see past the frizzy haired hag that stood in front of him. There were merchants she recognized from earlier visits to Amaranthine. The fat caterpillar of a man that stood by the Merchants Guild board. The dark haired woman with large eyes that had recently married another merchant. Delilah, her name was. Shiva remembered talking to her just before her arrest. The dwarven bartender from The Crown and the Lion stood near her.

Her eyes locked with one spectator in particular. He did not fit with the dirty peasants surrounding him, clad in plain clothes and unshapely dresses. It was the fact he wore armor that made him noticeable. The guards were the only others who did so. His silverite gloves, breastplate of white steel, red robes, and tan hose clashed together into one unique character. The grip and pommel of the two blades on his back stuck up like amputated wings. His skin was dark, Qunari-bronze. His beard was thick and neat, hair tied back with a few loose pieces framing well-shaped brows. She could not see his eyes well from the distance between them, but she imagined they were warm and wise. He was attractive and the gold hoop in his ear was the final touch that made him look more like a pirate than she ever did. That thought caused the corner of her lip to twitch into a small smile. Shiva's eyes remained locked with his, and for some reason she gave him the slightest bow. He cocked his head, more in confusion than acknowledgement, and assumed the classic 'thinking position.' Something about her stare must have spooked him, for he started to move through the crowd. The reality of her situation returned to her. All thoughts of her curious spectator left and she looked over the crowd to the field beyond.

* * *

Her demeanor had made him curious, but her manner when she addressed him directly had struck him. Duncan had listened to Constable Aidan's account of her crimes. She was being hung for piracy. Her body would be brought to the docks below the city used by smugglers and suspended as a deterrent.

Upon her capture, she had killed several guards. She was obviously a capable fighter and possessed useful skills. The constable's was not the only account he had heard. There was a book written about her, supposedly by one who had sailed under her command. She was a force to be reckoned with, he had read. Daring in battle and always unpredictable. Swift and powerful. There had been a noticeable decline in pirate activity among the coasts, other captains feared they would be crushed by their competition – and did this lovely Pirate Queen ever hate competition.

Treasures were not what motivated this woman – but _thrills_. The thrill of being in a battle and the thrill of being the best. She would reward her crew with generous shares of their spoils, keeping only a moderate fraction more than they would receive.

His gut told him making his way to the foot of the gallows was the right thing to do.

* * *

A small disturbance to her right caused Shiva to turn her head. The armored, dark and handsome spectator was speaking with the guard that separated the crowd from her little carnival act. As they spoke, the guard became more forceful and the man stood ever more firmly. The constable stepped forward and addressed the situation openly.

"Do you object to this sentencing, sirrah?" The man turned his head to address his speaker and took a slight bow.

"Forgive my intrusion, but I am in need of Grey Warden recruits and if this woman is who you say she is, she has valuable skills that would benefit our cause against the darkspawn rising in the south." Shiva was thoroughly surprised.

_This guy wants to recruit me? Has he not been listening this whole time or is he as crazy as I am? Hmm… I hope it is the latter. _

Constable Aiden puffed his chest out and managed to pull off a mighty frown. "Out of the question! She is responsible for some of the most heinous acts since the time of the Orlesian occupation. She will hang this very day! She killed several of my guards before we apprehended her!"

The recruiter looked at her once more. She was aware she probably looked foolish in her surprise. Head cocked, eyes wide, mouth forming a small 'O.' She risked being struck by the guard by speaking herself.

"What is this purpose you mentioned that you believe I could aid?" Just as predicted, the constable struck her across the face for speaking out of turn. He inhaled to reprimand further, but the recruiter stepped forward and put his hand on Constable Asshole's shoulder. Shiva licked blood off of her busted lip.

"There are tainted creatures called darkspawn rising from the Deep Roads and making their presence known on the surface. They have formed a horde in the Korcari Wilds and threaten to invade north into the valley. An army of our own has formed at Ostagar to combat it."

"A battle in the south? So you seek only another body to be gutted on the field." She quieted as she thought. "It would seem I face death either way. Understand I do not oppose the option, but the decision is out of my hands and the constable is clearly unwilling to release me. I'm afraid you must find yourself another soldier." Turning from the man with such sureness should have left him resigned and retreating, but his momentum did not slow.

"If I am understanding you correctly, you're saying you would raise your sword to fight with us as a Grey Warden?"

"I see little point in confirming that, considering my current situati-" A nod toward the area indicated her point. All present were in favor of the execution taking place, except the recruiter and herself. It would take something concrete to challenge so much combined will.

"My lady, I would appreciate if you answered my question." She was right; his eyes were warm and strong – brown like a deep pool of honey.

"I would fight in your battle."

He turned to the guards again. "Then I hereby invoke the Grey Warden's Right of Conscription. I remove this prisoner into my custody."

Shiva had never heard of the Right of Conscription, but it was good enough to make the constable gape like a fish so she liked it already.

"You… You fool! You are freeing this murderous criminal? You think she will bend knee to your cause? The only cause she follows is satisfying her own greed and bloodlust! You are dooming countless innocents!" Duncan maintained his composure while Aidan shouted and sprayed a considerable amount of saliva on their shoes. Shiva flinched when she felt the executioner loosen the knot of the noose and raise it over her head. The rope around her wrists was cut and no one would be able to convince her that the slice she felt on her wrist was accidental.

Constable Aidan stepped to the edge of the gallows and addressed the crowd. "The pirate is to become a Grey Warden, you have this man to thank for letting this killer remain on the streets. Return to your homes, lock your doors at night and make sure you are well armed for she is one of many criminal scum that blight the city of Amaranthine." Shiva listened with growing indignation. She imagined how amusing it would be to plant her foot on his back and shove him off the gallows right into the pathetic little crowd. Deciding the idea was too good to pass up, she stepped forward but was halted when Duncan seized her arm, no doubt aware of her mischievous intent. He was giving her a stern look.

_Damn, what happened to my subtlety? _

When her plan was foiled, she relaxed in submission. Duncan let go of her arm and formally greeted her. "My lady, my name is Duncan. Your name is…?"

"Shiva."

"Shiva, have you any possessions? We will be traveling for some time and you are hardly equipped to make such a journey." Before Shiva could reply, Constable Aidan stepped up to answer.

"Her possessions were confiscated when she was arrested. If she is to walk out of here alive, she should take all her rubbish with her. I will lead you to where they are stored." He looked at Shiva warily, with his hand on the hilt of his sword. Neither Duncan nor Shiva paid his posture any mind – Shiva wanted to get what little she had back from the guard.

When Shiva's items were returned to her, she and Duncan returned to the inn. She tossed her prison rags aside and put on her white tunic, her leather pants that were a poor excuse for light armor, and her boots that were worn. She tied her gold sash around her waist, fondly remembering the angry drunk in Kirkwall that had lost it to her in a card game. After checking her small leather pouch that had her skeleton key and a few lockpicks, she secured them and her empty flask to her sash. There was a severe lack of ale and a meager amount of coins in her coin purse that made her frown. She bent down to slide her dagger in her boot and went downstairs to reunite with Duncan.

He sat at a table against the wall, rising from his chair when he saw her. They both sat. She had the chance to really see him as he was directly across from her, and found him ever more appealing to the eyes.

"I have taken the liberty of ordering some food for you to eat. I imagine they have not been generous to you lately."

"Quite the understatement, and thank you." Bread, cheese, and meat were brought to the table. As they ate, Duncan noticed her eyes were on him almost constantly and her expression became increasingly puzzled. She ate fast though, and drank with even more speed so he decided to address her attention after she had her fill. When her eyes were locked on the table and her chewing slowed to compensate for her racing mind, he spoke.

"I imagine you have many questions for me."

Her eyes flicked up to meet his. They were a brilliant blue, deeper than he had ever seen. The shade was so dark it was near violet, yet he distinctly remembered meeting her eyes before and noticing a much lighter shade. "I do. Why me? Are you such a risk taker that you would recruit a known killer? What exactly do you think I have that could be of use to you? How do you even know I am who they said I was? Or as skilled as they say? What exactly _is_ a Grey Warden? And who _are_ you?" She spoke fast, ended her string of questions with a deep breath. She looked at him with the same childlike expression as before when he revealed his intention to recruit her. Duncan chuckled.

"If there is any question I fail to address, you will have to remind me. And before I answer, are you who they say?"

"Yes, I was a pirate. The infamous lady captain of the ship Revenant and much of what you heard about me, if you have heard of me, is probably true." Her expression was smug as it was likely he had heard all about her. Whether he had or not, she still had his interest since he put himself forth in such a way to claim her for his cause.

"Then you have been in combat before and survived. You have lead men to victory in battles at sea, have you not?"

"I have."

"Being a Grey Warden is a lifelong duty. Our purpose is to fight the darkspawn with everything we have, for if the darkspawn gain a foothold on the surface and are not swiftly and efficiently opposed, they could wipe out all human, elven, and dwarven-kind. I do not always recruit this way, I search for capable warriors that are willing to join our cause, but I have been traveling for weeks and have found none. This situation demands I return with someone willing to join us for there are too few Grey Wardens in Ferelden. There are circumstances where I will consider someone with," he paused, choosing his words carefully, "certain skills that may have gained an unpopular reputation. One of the other recruits that await us at Ostagar tried to rob me before I caught him. He was obviously a skilled rogue, thankfully not skilled enough to get away with all of my coin, but a talented and daring individual nonetheless."

Shiva laughed at his assessment. "You seem like the kind of man that thinks on a different note than most others."

Duncan nodded and smiled, "You could say that I do, yes. You also asked who I am. Most importantly, I am the Commander of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden. I have been for the past two decades. Little beyond that is important, though you will probably learn much more about me in the time to come." Shiva nodded, seeming to think over all that he said. "Are you ready to leave? Our next stop is Highever. I will continue my search for recruits and you will have to accompany me until I am ready to return with you to Ostagar."

"I have all I need for now." Shiva cheerily raised her empty mug to him. The third mug had emptied much more quickly as she took the opportunity to refill her flask.

"Then we should leave immediately. I would like to cover as much ground today as possible before making camp. I would also like to test your skill in combat once we do set up camp."

Shiva smirked, "I look forward to it."

"Let's go." The guard that was hovering nearby was obviously relieved. He escorted them outside the city, under the constable's orders, and watched as they went down the road.

As they walked silence, Shiva thought about her unbelievable stroke of luck. How often was one given another chance like this? And with that, a purpose? She didn't feel that she deserved it, and she felt as though Death was still breathing down her neck. But she was intrigued by Duncan - it didn't hurt that he was handsome. She was excited about her chance to revel in the chaos of battle once more. It was as if she was a cat that was awarded a tenth life, one lived entirely borrowed time.


	2. A Line Nearly Ended

Borrowed Time, Ch 2 – A Line Nearly Ended

Pairings – temporary OC/Aedan Cousland

AN - Borrowing my mom's warden, Aedan (yes, she's a DA fangirl too) cuz she made the sexiest one I've seen thus far. I'll give him back though…

* * *

It had been several hours since their departure from Amaranthine. They were making good progress, had shared some stories of their previous travels through the area and were already at ease in each other's presence. Eventually, they stopped to set up camp.

"I worry about you, Duncan. I really do." Shiva didn't take her eyes off her task, but she could see out of the corner of her eye when he turned from his.

Duncan looked at Shiva, surprised. "And why is that?"

"You are far too trusting!" She wondered if he suspected her to attack him, which she would have if he weren't so likable. Perhaps he was really a cocky bastard and knew that. "I could have killed you right when we were far enough away from the city gates."

"Surely it hasn't escaped your notice that I am both armed and armored. A fight between us would have been rather one sided."

Shiva grinned and shook her head. "You, like so many others, underestimate spontaneous, unarmed combat. Are you not aware how easy it is to break someone's neck? And if my being unarmed is such a concern to you, I could easily remove one of those blades at your back." He seemed more amused by her homicidal scenario than anything else.

"I see. If I am so vulnerable, why haven't you attempted to murder me?"

She answered quickly, "I like you, Duncan. I have no desire or need to kill you. And honestly I'm quite curious about all this Blight fuss that has you so worked up. I need a guide."

Duncan chuckled at her honest response. "Well I thank you for your mercy and for allowing me to be your guide. Although I may underestimate unarmed combat, as you say, I wish to see what you can do with this." He removed his dagger from its sheath and offered it to her. She took the dagger and practiced a few swings and jabs. Duncan watched her, drawing his sword.

* * *

The evening was nearly spent. Shiva waded into the stream, leaving her clothes on a nearby rock. The water was cold and shallow. Kneeling in the water brought the level up to her waist. She rolled her shoulders, finally able to relax after having her neck saved, spending a full day on her feet, and sparring with Duncan – who she decided would be one tough son of a bitch in a real fight. She couldn't help but wonder how he handled himself in… more intimate settings.

Early the following day, they came across some bandits who didn't stand a chance against the Warden Commander and would-be-Warden. One of the bandits was a female wearing scale armor. It was Duncan that suggested Shiva try it on, for she had been busy rummaging through their leader's pockets. She liked the armor he pointed out. It was made of iron, and what wasn't covered in that was scarlet-dyed. That'll do, pig. That'll do.

When Shiva was equipped with her new armor, they continued. Duncan gave Shiva a brief history of the last four Blights.

* * *

They arrived at Highever castle mid-morning. Duncan and Shiva were escorted to a grand hall where Bryce Cousland stood with two others.

Shiva knew little of the Teyrn, save for his part in the war with Orlais and that he was well respected. As she beheld him, she saw his hair was all grey, but it was the only feature to give away his age. He stood straight and had a light, formal – but not overly so – demeanor. He was still appealing, and if one wanted an estimate on how he looked in his youth they needn't look farther than his eldest son, Fergus.

Fergus was well known for being as jovial as his father, perhaps more so. Also like his father, he wholeheartedly cared for his family. In combat he was an average fighter, though from his words he was the best. His younger siblings devoted more time training than he and each had different talents. The youngest, Elissa, was best as an archer, though she normally used a longsword and dagger. The middle child, Aedan, used two daggers at all times. The three siblings all had a love for grand battles and history.

Elissa was the most passionate. She was petite, even for her age of eighteen. Her hair was made of wild, auburn curls that reached her collarbone. Her brothers constantly teased her for it, saying she looked like a witch from the Korcari Wilds. They would even call her Flemeth. Her fiery response would always include the threat of turning them into toads and feeding them to the hounds. Her threats entertained her brothers, leaving the young woman seething while they howled with laughter until their parents saved her from their jokes.

Elissa's fanaticism showed itself when the Ferelden Rebellion would come up. Aldous, the castle historian, was impressed by her knowledge of it when he began her lessons on the era. Prior to them, she often begged her father for tales, both of ones he was and was not a part of. Her utmost fascination was for the Hero of River Dane. Despite his roguish, common background, the war turned him into a well-respected warrior and Elissa was enamored by him. When she was brought to Landsmeets that both Teyrns would be present for, she would steal away her friend, Lady Anora, asking what it was like to have such a man as father. Elissa didn't want him as father, of course, but knowledge of what it was like to live with him. If there was softness and romance he saved for his family, or if he was awkward and fumbling, such as not knowing what to say to a crying woman or girl. Anora loved her father dearly and would supply her young friend with stories from their time together when he wasn't leading his army or at the castle with young Prince Cailan. Anora was well aware of her crush on Loghain, but said nothing.

She was thirteen years of age before she spoke to him herself. It was at Cailan and Anora's wedding. Bryce was speaking to him with her at his side. Another nobleman approached to talk to her father in a quick aside. She took the opportunity to ask after Loghain's feelings about having his daughter wed the child of his best friend. She would never forget the way he beamed. It wasn't an overly cheerful expression, his happiness was more subtle. His smile was slight, but genuine. He cocked his head to the side when he did so, and the small quirk at the corners of his lips was just enough to reach his eyes. He expressed great pleasure that the marriage bound their families together and that his daughter would help rule Ferelden – for she and their country were the two things he loved most in the world.

Aedan was sharp, but much less devoted to his studies. His skill with blades was unmatched in Highever and Duncan admitted he was also a strong candidate for recruitment into the Grey Wardens. What he was most well known for were his looks and his womanizing ways.

He was one of the men standing with Bryce in the hall. He was every bit as handsome as they said. Dark brown hair was pulled back into a short ponytail. His scruff framed full, soft lips and his eyes had an ever-present arrogant gleam. The leather armor he wore hid his chest and thighs, but his arms and calves were well muscled.

The other man was Arl Rendon Howe - an unpleasant, slimy type of man who knew how manipulation in politics worked. His hair was short and as grey as Bryce's, but his age showed more. His beak overshadowed a thin-lipped mouth. He had small, piercing eyes under bushy brows. Seeing him after the other two pleasing men, three if Duncan was included, was like being dunked in cold water.

"Good morning, Teyrn Cousland." Duncan gave a bow that Shiva mirrored behind him. Before the teyrn could respond, Howe cut in to express his surprise.

"Your Lordship, you didn't mention a Grey Warden would be present." His tiny eyes darted between Duncan and Bryce.

"Duncan arrived just a short moment ago. Is there a problem?" Shiva didn't know why Teyrn Cousland had to ask, it was obvious Howe had some sort of disadvantage now that they were there. Howe coolly regained his composure, but Shiva knew a snake when she saw one.

She also recognized a hunk when she saw one. Aedan Cousland was disinterested with the rest of the party and gazed at her. When their eyes met, he was sure to give her his most dashing smile. His father spoke to him of Grey Wardens after he introduced them. Aedan tore his eyes away from Shiva and responded formally before being dismissed. As he passed Duncan, he paused to arrange a meeting as soon as possible. Apparently he was interested in trying to impress Duncan and perhaps join the Grey Wardens. Duncan commented on his eagerness and arranged something for the evening before dinner. That left his time after the meeting to be free. As Aedan passed Shiva, he paused once more. They stood nearly shoulder-to-shoulder.

"My lady, you should see our library once you have a chance. I am sure you wouldn't be disappointed." His hand softly brushed hers as he spoke. The combination of his touch and obvious seduction left no doubt what would await her there. He left without needing her to speak. The way she pursed her lips to keep a straight face said it all.

* * *

She got lost trying to find the library. The first room she entered with various bookshelves was the chantry. Her audible 'blech' when she entered that room was heard by the priestess that stood near the podium.

Aedan stood at the door to a more private section of the study, where he could see as soon as she walked in. It was to her left. When she approached him, he bowed and took her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles.

He led her inside to lean against the desk. "Pardon my inattention if it was mentioned before, but I didn't catch your name."

"Inattention? The way your eyes were riveted to my physiognomy hardly speaks of anything but attentiveness." Crossing her arms caused her breasts to be pushed together. From his position above and so close to her, he didn't fail to notice. "My name is Shiva."

Their conversation in the library consisted of nothing but banter, steamy most of the time. They teased each other back and forth, pushing the limit farther until they nearly kissed in front of two squires. After nearly an hour with both of them being idle with conversation, a knight with red hair and a cleanly shaved face approached.

"Pardon the interruption, my lord. The Grey Warden Commander wished to see us. My lady, are you his recruit? He wanted you to join us as well." The knight was broad shouldered and tall, nearly built like a qunari, but far more civil than one. He led them to the training room, where Duncan stood in the middle. He had been waiting patiently with his hands at his sides. It was amazing how he always looked so calm and neat. Shiva imagined she and he were quite a contrast since she was messy and languid. She compared the allure of herself, Duncan, and Aedan. All three of them were tempting – herself least of all in her mind, but she knew many men were attracted to her, though why exactly she did not know – but the manner of their appeal was entirely different.

Duncan was the only who was never purposely sexy. It was his air, he couldn't help it. He was formal and reserved in most cases, but the fluidity of his motions was unmistakable, almost mesmerizing.

Aedan was an obvious scoundrel. He was well aware how he looked and treasured his own pleasure above all else. Haughty, roguish - he only had his power when one was instantly immersed in his company, as Shiva was. After days of such manners, he would most likely become irritating.

But Shiva, she found herself hard to describe. In her mind, she was a woman; that was all she needed to be. Her form was slim and toned, yet she had all the softness needed where it was most liked. She learned how to act sultry and flatter, but most of the time it was a distraction from serious matters. Her true sexuality was repressed, her past ruined much of her enjoyment. Though she was searching for someone carefree enough to help her get past that.

Duncan greeted the three who entered the room. "Ah, you're all here. Ser Gilmore and Aedan, you wished for me to test your skills? I believe now is an appropriate time. Shiva, you will help me do this. Come, stand by me." Shiva approached the warden and stood at his side as he commanded. He found out earlier that her preferred combat style was with both longsword and dagger. She was still in possession of his dagger, and he then handed her his longsword as the men readied their weapons. "Shiva, when I give you the signal, give me the longsword and I will enter the match." Duncan stepped back to give them space. "Are you all ready?" Shiva was standing about twenty strides away from the two men. They were to fight in a pair against her for the first fragment of their spar. "Engage."

The men circled around Shiva to attack her from opposite sides. She stared ahead where they stood before, with her senses more alert. She was still, ready for any indication of their next move. To her left, Ser Gilmore nodded and raised his sword high, charging while Aedan attacked at the same time. Shiva rolled forward. Aedan's daggers met Ser Gilmore's shield and the knight's sword nearly met the nobleman's breast. Not a full second passed when she returned to her vertical position and roundhouse kicked Aedan in the back of the neck. He staggered forward, bumping into the knight. Ser Gilmore helped right the rogue's balance and moved aside for them to attack independently.

Longswords and daggers clashed for the better part of ten minutes. Shiva confused them with her unique swashbuckling style. On her ship, she would use her surroundings as obstacles for her opponent to be slowed, while she effortlessly glided around the deck with catlike leaps and landings. The mannequins around the room were not fixed to the floor so she knocked them forward into whichever man charged her.

She was the most skilled, though they showed proficiency on the floor as well. Few of her straightforward attacks were not blocked or parried. She stood facing Duncan, with Ser Gilmore between them. Over the knight's shoulder, she saw Duncan nod and hold his hand out for his longsword. Ser Gilmore was at a loss since none of his previous tactics had worked. He was waiting for her offensive maneuver. Without taking a step, she snapped her leg upward, kicking him in the chin. She tossed Duncan's longsword overhead so he easily caught it in his extended palm.

Aedan recovered from his blow and charged directly at Duncan. The odds were better for Shiva – two on two. Duncan stepped to the side and raised his knee in Aedan's path to kick him in the ribs using the rogue's own charge. Aedan groaned and doubled over, Duncan moved to the recovering knight to engage him. They exchanged various strikes, Ser Gilmore did better facing Duncan though he was still outmatched. Shiva stopped circling the knight when she was behind him and stretched her leg forward to make him lose his footing. When he felt her, Ser Gilmore executed a backwards kick with shield bashing Duncan backward. His kick stunned Shiva's leg. When she staggered, she was open for Aedan's charge. He knocked her down but was taken to the floor with her when she hooked her arm around him.

When Duncan saw both wardens staggered, Duncan commanded them to still. Shielding his sword, he applauded them. "All have you have done well. My expectations were exceeded. You showed teamwork, resilience, and quick strategic creativity. My lord, I will speak to your father about having you join us as well as Ser Gilmore." Aedan raised himself from Shiva with an unnecessary but not unwelcome roll of the hips and moved to sit directly on her.

"Hah, you hear that, Ser Gilmore? Even Duncan can't deny we're bloody good!" He was beaming through a sheen of sweat. Duncan was about to calm his arrogance with cautious advice before Shiva started grousing below him.

"Yes, yes, you're a half decent fighter, now get off of me. If you had as much skill as weight you would have fared much better." He parted his feet to reach down and tickle her side. She squealed under him and kicked her legs to make him stop. Duncan laughed at her predicament.

"I will leave the two of you." Duncan bowed and left the training room with his usual light steps and a smile further softening his features. He trusted Shiva to use her evading tactics to escape Aedan's torture before more guards came.

* * *

Simultaneously, they awoke to the hound's barking and sat up. Whatever the hound heard outside upset it enough for it to break the silent stillness of the night with such volume – both lovers in the room were wide awake with the shock of hearing it.

The three of them stood near the door. Aedan approached it and had his hand to the knob to open it. "Down, boy. I will see if there's something in the hall." He took his hound's alarm seriously – though not seriously enough to put some clothes on. The door was opened only a few inches when Aedan cried out and staggered backwards. An arrow stuck out from his chest, just above his heart.

The hound barreled the door the rest of the way open and attacked one of the soldiers in the hall. There were four in all and they turned to watch the dog in shock as it tore through the archer's throat. Shiva searched for her discarded boots to find her dagger. When she had it ready, she stood near the door yet just enough in the shadows not to be noticed by the two men turning back to finish Aedan while their companion bashed toward the dog with his shield. With a spin for momentum, she threw her dagger into the nearest soldier's throat. He fell to his knees with blood spurting around the knife. Shiva stepped forward and removed her dagger from the first with a slash, which was aimed at the others neck. With three of the four gurgling blood, Shiva stepped back into Aedan's room to dress, as he was doing. The dog scratched through the final soldier's armor to eviscerate him with his claws.

When dressed, Aedan ran out with both daggers drawn. Shiva followed with the dagger she borrowed from Duncan.

"Darling!" Aedan started, seeing his mother dressed in leather armor and with a longbow at her back. He recovered from his shock to growl in anger.

"Howe has betrayed us! He attacks while our troops are gone." The hound shared the same anger as his master, for he paced with ears back, growling when he caught a whiff of the dead soldiers.

"Have you seen your father? He never came to bed." Shiva noticed the door across from Aedan's was ajar. She snuck up to it and slowly nudged it open until she could see no live bodies within – only the corpse of a woman and her child. Aedan and the teyrna jogged over to see for themselves. They brushed past Shiva's somber expression to see what was inside themselves. Teyrna Eleanor's broken sobs could immediately be heard within. Aedan's feet would take him no further than the threshold. He had a good enough view from there. Shiva squeezed his shoulder in brief condolences but did not linger. It was not the time for grief. His fist slammed on the side of the doorframe.

"I will make them _pay_." A broken sigh was the only mourning he would show for his deceased sister-in-law and nephew for the moment. "Come mother, we must find father." Eleanor followed slowly as he stormed off toward the next door. When she passed through the door clearing her eyes from tears, Shiva placed her hand upon her arm as she did Aedan, but with more gentleness.

"My lady." Shiva said no more. What was there to be said, after all? The teyrna understood what she meant and showed gratitude. Shiva turned to follow Aedan; she would allow Eleanor to follow when she was composed.

Aedan was already engaging more soldiers in the next room. Shiva charged forth beside the hound. She delivered swift cuts with her dagger. It was strong enough to parry the blows delivered by the soldiers. In his ferocity, Aedan blasted through his enemies and was the one who finished her opponent off. As they continued, allying themselves with surviving Cousland guards and the few servants courageous enough to follow, Shiva wondered where Duncan was in all of it. It was likely he would be with the teyrn. She hoped it was so and he was not killed while he slept.

Half of the castle was cleared and scoured by the small force they raised. Ser Gilmore was in charge of men that held the doors shut. He informed them that Bryce Cousland had gone toward the servant's entrance.

The men behind Ser Gilmore would not be able to hold it for long. Weapons were bursting through the wood already and one guard was speared through the head. Aedan ran up to the door where the freshly deceased was to compensate for the loss. He thrust a dagger between the remaining planks, but saw their numbers were far too great. His muscles strained from exertion and his wound had bled through his armor long since. The decision he made was a difficult one; he contemplated with his sweating forehead pressed against the door. With determination masking his sorrow, he turned to call out to his mother.

"Go! Find father, I will remain here to keep these bastards out for as long as possible." It was hard to tell if there were tears mixed in the beads rolling down his face.

"Darling, no! You'll never make it! We must go find your father _together_." Aedan shook his head in response. He ordered his hound to go with his mother and Shiva. As he leant to put his hand on the faithful dogs head, he gave his final order.

"Protect her." The hound whined long and loudly. With a howl, the dog turned and ran to Eleanor, brushing his shoulder against her thigh, moving her toward the other door. Eleanor was still protesting, but the hound was determined to carry out his masters will and blocked her from moving closer to her son. Aedan was pleading Shiva with a look to help convince her to move on. Shiva grabbed the teyrna by the arm once more.

"My lady, you can linger no more. One of you getting out alive is better than none." Eleanor vehemently resisted, but Shiva gathered her strength and helped the dog drag her out of the hall. "Teyrna, your daughter and husband may be ahead! Will you not search for them?"

With a huff, Eleanor swallowed the rest of her sobs. Her eyes were downcast, searching the bloodied stones for the resolve to continue. Her hair came loose from the braided bun that held it back and was clinging to her face. The makeup around her eyes was splotched, half washed away from the tears she had shed and the sweat that still poured. With a nod, she continued.

The battle in the hall had claimed all the rest they traveled with. It was only the two women and the dog that headed toward the servants entrance. As they rounded the corner to the kitchens, they heard a mighty battle cry that was uttered by a female.

"Elissa!" Eleanor stopped at the end of the corridor to draw her longbow and shoot at the two guards and knight that her daughter was struggling to fight. Shiva ran to her aid. The knight in Howe's service raised a massive mallet high over his head while Elissa was engaging one of the guards beside him. Shiva ran past him, grabbing the grip and using her momentum to stagger him and hopefully disarm him. The knight had a heavy stance and was only slightly staggered by her move. Revising her plan, she drew her dagger and swung back to stab the knight at the base of his skull, where his helmet didn't quite meet his armor. The mallet fell behind her. Elissa withdrew her longsword from one guard while the last fell with an arrow sticking out of his eye. The hound was barking from inside the kitchens so the three women ran to him.

The teyrn was on the ground holding his side. Blood was welling from the wound he covered. The Couslands were crowded around each other. Shiva was still anxious. Bryce was heavily wounded, already sure of his own death, and Duncan had not been around. The hound started barking once more, everyone turned to the door to see Duncan enter, sheathing his bloodied sword. He had overheard the conversation. "I am afraid the teyrn is correct. Howe's men surround the castle and will be breaking through soon." His smooth voice spoke quickly, but was otherwise unperturbed.

Shiva breathed a sigh of relief, knowing they weren't out of the woods but still had the warden commander with them. "Duncan, my friend. You must do something for me." Bryce was short of breath. Those few words were choked out with difficulty.

"Anything, your Lordship." Duncan was kneeling before Bryce between his wife and daughter.

"Take my wife and daughter to safety. Find Fergus. Tell him… Tell him what happened here and…"

"… and take _vengeance_." Elissa hissed the final syllable, leaving her teeth bore in a snarl and punched the ground to emphasize her words.

Duncan agreed solemnly. "Of course, Teyrn. But I must ask something of you instead. The horror occurring here pales in comparison to the darkspawn. Necessity dictates I return with as many recruits as possible."

"I… Understand." Bryce was concerned for his daughter. He was more aware than Shiva of the dangers the Grey Wardens faced. He knew if the battle of Ostagar was lost, his line would be ended since there was no hope for Aedan.

"Darling," Eleanor addressed her daughter. "Go with Duncan. I will stay with your father to give all of you more time to escape."

Elissa's mouth dropped. "Mother, no! If you stay with father, so will I! I refuse to leave." She spitefully turned on Duncan. "You already have one lackey, be satisfied with her! I have more pressing matters." Duncan remained unruffled by her words and urged her to reconsider. Elissa foolishly resisted with ferocious determination.

Their discussion was taking too long and it escalated until Elissa drew her longsword. Duncan sighed in compliance. He headed toward the servants entrance and gestured for Shiva to follow.

"Should we not drag her out, Duncan? She does not see sense. Grief can be crippling, but it will pass and she will have the darkspawn to take it out on." Shiva didn't care if she overheard.

"We have interfered too much as it is. Though it weighs heavily upon my heart to do it, we must leave now." Elissa followed them to the servant's entrance, shooing them with her sword still drawn. She stood at the entrance next to the dog as Duncan and Shiva passed through it. Elissa tearfully looked down at the dog, and in a fit of anger over not being able to fight to the death beside her brother, being stuck with his mutt instead, kicked the dog in the bullocks as hard as she could. The dog yelped and scurried several steps forward so it stood on the other side of the door. It turned to have the door slammed in its face and barricaded from the other side. Duncan and Shiva turned as well when they heard the yipe. The hound was at the door barking and trying to slam through. Shiva approached it.

"Come on boy, you're stuck with us now." The hound sat by the door and whined. "I know, but you must come." She gently laid a hand behind its ears and scratched. The dog stood and followed them with its head hanging low.


	3. It's in the Blood

Borrowed Time, Ch 3 – It's in the Blood

AN: Next in line for origins, I'm going through based on geographical location. This and one more stop before they swoop over to Ostagar.

* * *

The hound stared where the fire was before they doused it. Shiva was sitting next to the dog finishing breakfast. Duncan woke at dawn to hunt and came back with three rabbits. Shiva had been able to whip up a decent stew, though she lacked most ingredients she thought of that would have made it truly tasty. There were some pieces set by the dog that were untouched. Duncan was inhaling his, showing how eager he was to get them moving to their next destination.

When Shiva was finished with hers, she set the bowl down beside the dog, close enough for him to smell. "Come on boy. All this traveling and an empty stomach don't go well together." She scratched him behind the ears and ran her hand through his coat. He turned his head to look at her, which was progress. "Oh, you're such a handsome dog. Grief doesn't suit you." The hound responded with a huff. Shiva wasn't a dog person, but he was beautiful. He had a chestnut brown coat covering large, rippling muscles. His eyes held that intelligence that was a trademark for the breed.

She grabbed one piece of meat set aside for him and sopped it in the juices from the stew still in her bowl. Holding it close to his mouth, she waited for him to try it. The temptation beat the dulled appetite. The dog stuck his tongue out to lick the snack she held. He scooted forward to gently take the rabbit meat from her and chewed it. Shiva dipped the other pieces in stew for him and set the bones closer to him.

"So where are we going next, Duncan?" He had finished eating, but stayed seated when the dog finally started to respond to the pirate.

"We will go to the Circle of Magi. Even one mage would benefit us greatly, though there are seven at Ostagar already."

"What about templars? Are there no darkspawn mages?"

"There are. They are called emissaries. They have abilities that are similar to blood magic. Templars are indeed useful, but they are bound by vows to the chantry and are difficult to recruit without the Right of Conscription. Besides, there is a templar by the name of Alistair who became a warden only six months ago. His talents have proven quite useful, much as I expected when I recruited him."

"Warden-Commander, you truly do think of everything." Shiva bowed her head to him in jest.

Duncan chuckled. "Of course, as it is my duty." The dog was crushing the last of the rabbit bones in his strong teeth. Duncan stood and approached the dog. "Feel better?" The dog confirmed with a simple 'woof.' Patting the hound on the head, he addressed both his companions. "Are we ready to leave, then?"

"We are." Shiva and the dog stood to leave. They would likely reach Kinloch Hold early afternoon.

* * *

They were ferried across Lake Calenhad until they reached the island with the tower. The dog was staring at the water with his ears to the side. Apparently he wasn't a strong swimmer.

They were greeted by a templar once inside. He agreed to lead Duncan to the First Enchanter. Shiva would stay in the library on the first floor. She found a book that would entertain her for the time.

She sat in a secluded corner, not wanting to be disturbed by the skittish little mages. The dog was watching everyone around him. When one mage passed them without noticing, the dog was sniffing at a spider in the dusty corner. Inhaling the dust caused him to sneeze, which scared the mage into a scrambling sissy. The dog cocked his head at the retreating robes, while some nearby apprentices roared with laughter. The hound was happy to have an audience so he waited beside a bookshelf for more unsuspecting passers by. He woofed at a few that passed and all were surprised by his tactic to some degree, but apparently not enough for his entertainment. By then, Shiva abandoned her book. She and the apprentices across the room were all watching the Mabari with great interest. She imagined the poor fellows practically never got the chance to see such a thing.

The dog saw another mage approach. He had red messy hair and was nearly translucent he was so pale. The dog bunched his hind muscles to pounce, lowered his ears and ceased his excited pants to create the perfect ambush. When the mage was close enough, the hound leaped right into the mage's path and produced a loud, eerie bellow that sounded more like it came from a werewolf. The mage dropped his book in complete fear and let out the most singular cry. It started low, like a strong grunt before escalating into a proper scream. The dog watched as all the stages of gripping terror contorted the mages face. He simply stood there wagging his stumpy tail as the mage fanned himself with his hand and turned to sit in a nearby chair – not near the dog, however. The apprentices and pirate were trying to cope with their aching sides from intense laughter. Most of them were wiping away tears. Shiva patted her hand on the ground to call the dog over.

"Oh, you are a naughty boy! Yes you are! I should call you Loki since you can't exactly tell me your name." The hound cocked his head at her.

"What, Loki? It's supposedly the god of mischief or something. Not bad, huh?" The dog barked happily. "You like it?" A similar bark. Shiva hugged the hound. "Loki it is!"

One of the apprentices approached her. He had black hair and blue eyes. Very cute in a young man sort of way. "What a charming dog." Loki barked and licked the mage's hand. "Shall I get you a chair?"

"No need, thank you. I'm fine down here." The mage stuck out his hand and Shiva shook it.

"I'm Jowan. Don't mind the slobber." She just realized it was the hand Loki had licked.

"I'm Shiva, and no worries. I can't afford to, anyway." Jowan sat against the wall next to Shiva.

"Ever been to the Circle before? I can see you're not a mage. Are you here with the Grey Warden?"

"No, never been here before. And yes, I'm the warden recruit. My soon to be Commander is looking for more mages to join us. He said several were already down south."

Jowan nodded. "I know, its strange seeing so many gone at one time. Means less templars too and that's never a bad thing."

"Yeah, I hear they're self-righteous assholes." Most of them were pretty handsome in their shiny armor, but that wasn't something the young mage beside her wanted to hear. The templar stereotype was a young blonde templar that should never have to take vows of chastity with the type of looks he possessed. She wondered if the warden templar Duncan spoke of was an exception to the rule.

"You said it! They really are. They're very suspicious of us. Everything we do or say is something dangerous or sinister. They don't understand how miserable and oppressive it is here." His tone took on a definite whine and he spoke louder as his rant continued. "I'm sorry, it's just… This is everyday of my life and its miserable. Doesn't help that I'm nervous about my friend." He rubbed his eyes with soft hands that had obviously done nothing more strenuous than pick up a pile of books or a staff…

_Or stroke his staff… Damn it, why is the very subject of mages so susceptible to dirty puns?_

"Tell me about your friend," Shiva prompted.

"Her name is Solona. She's a really talented mage and like a sister to me. She's going through her Harrowing right now. It's what makes an apprentice into a full mage, but they keep it a secret so I don't know any more than that. All I know is it's dangerous and some apprentices die during it. Really talented mages too, I don't know what it is that increases someone's chances of surviving if there is anything." The whining started again, but she couldn't say she wouldn't be a pathetic mess if she had to live there her whole life. He started rubbing his eyes again. "I really wish there was somewhere else for us. A completely different way to go about training mages."

"Ever wanted to travel? I say if mages and the mundane must be separated, we should supply you all well enough so you can take Seheron and Par Vollen from the qunari."

"Don't want to just send us to Tevinter?"

"No, the Tevinter Imperium is too corrupt with its slavery and whatnot. Everyone here is far too agreeable. You guys need somewhere new. The islands would do you good. At least you could go outside. You guys could have a college! Those who want the best education couldn't afford to be fearful. Not that I'm saying my wish is for you to be separated. I'm quite fond of the company of mages."

"You don't ever wish you were one, do you?" It seemed as though he was used to ignorant people romanticizing the use of magic. He clearly expected her to be one.

"No, I don't really. It's a rather good thing I am not - I would set everything on fire, haha! But no, I prefer natural things. The worth of a blade and muscle. It's so much more personal to me. I just wish it wasn't at the cost of intellect. They aren't far off when they think of mages as scholars and warriors as brutes." She winked.

Jowan seemed to cheer up, he laughed at her response. He looked beyond where she was sitting and lit up at something he saw. Following his gaze, it was a tall blonde mage he saw – probably Solona. "That's my friend! She made it through her Harrowing. Would you excuse me?" Jowan had already hopped to his feet.

"Of course, little spitfire. And give her my congratulations." They shook hands goodbye.

Shiva occupied herself with the book for a few more moments before there was a familiar shadow cast over her. She met the eyes of her Commander. "Anyone interesting here?"

"Yes, there is one young woman who passed her Harrowing just this morning seems to be a worthy candidate. Come, I have been given the guest quarters on the upper floor. We can continue our discussion there."

Duncan offered his hand to help her up.

"The young woman, is her name Solona?" Duncan opened the door for her once they reached the top of the stairs. She stepped through to see more of their impressive library. She wondered why it was split between two floors.

_Maybe this is where they keep the naughty books. _

Since there were several mages around perusing the shelves, all without an obvious tent in their robes, she figured her guess was wrong.

"Yes, that is her. I just met her in First Enchanter Irving's office. Do you know her?" They didn't make it far along the curved hallway before he gestured for her to enter the large quarters to their right. They were richly furnished. More bookshelves lined the walls and a bed was in the center of the room against a large pillar that divided the room. Behind it was probably a place to bathe and change. There were finely polished wooden wardrobes and similarly crafted table and chairs in the right quadrant of the room. Shiva took a seat at one of the chairs and Duncan sat beside her.

"I didn't meet her but I saw her come down. I spoke to an apprentice who said he was a friend of hers. He said she was a most talented mage."

"I hope to recruit her when we next meet. For the time being I will continue to observe the other mages for more suitable candidates, though Solona has already expressed interest in becoming a Grey Warden. It is likely she is using it as an excuse to leave the tower. Is there anything you wish to do while we are here?"

Shiva propped her head on her hand while she thought. "Hmm. Other than asking around to satisfy general curiosities…" She quickly raised her head when a particular thought struck her. Duncan raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to share her epiphany. "I've heard tranquil were accomplished brewers! Think I could get some ale out of them? I emptied my flask already." Her final fact was given through an expression of sadness disproportionate to the issue. Duncan shook his head in amusement.

"Wynne, one of the mages already at Ostagar, is a connoisseur thanks to their brewing. I don't know if it is a privilege of mages, but I leave that to you."

Shiva rose from her seat. "If I do manage to get something decent to drink, would you join me?"

"Of course. Return here if you are successful."

* * *

Shiva returned with an entire barrel that was enough to fill about fifteen flasks. When Duncan heard her enter, he turned and the sight of her returning with that amount of ale caused his eyebrows to shoot up.

"Commander, the tranquil of Kinloch Hold would like to bestow upon you and your order this tribute." She sat the small barrel on the table with the spigot hanging over the edge. Her formal introduction wavered over her excitement. "They recognized that our overall satisfaction was essential to our ability to oppose the darkspawn."

Duncan groaned. "Maker's breath, child. Have you never heard of moderation?" She supplied two pints for them that had been tied to her belt.

"No one ever said we had to finish it in one sitting. Besides, you should have seen the amount they had stored! This was hardly a noticeable sacrifice." She filled the first pint and slid it down the table to him before filling her own.

"If nothing else, I must commend your skills in coercion. It is not easy to trick the logical mind of the tranquil." Duncan took a slow drink from his mug.

Shiva shrugged at his complement. "There was no protocol against it, so they handed it over rather easily."

"I see. Yet it is hardly your first smooth transaction. No doubt this helped you when you dealt with other Raiders." Duncan had refrained from asking her about her past, for the most part.

"At times, yes. Though I was more used to killing first, asking for their riches later." The pirate cockily lounged in the chair with her ankles crossed under the table and the arm that wasn't holding her mug crossed under her breasts.

"So I have heard. What is it that got you into that life?" He was putting down the drink at a surprising rate, considering it was him.

"I was homeless. Wandered to the docks and saw a lad that looked particularly forlorn. He was helping others move cargo onto a fine ship – the most beautiful vessel I had ever seen. I called the lad over and learned it was a pirate ship, and that he was part of the crew. Told him I'd trade his hat and gloves for my scarf and he agreed. He had enough coin, but never an opportunity that felt right until then. I took his place. The hat was enough to hide my hair, and he was a feminine looking boy so it wasn't hard to impersonate him. His name was Smith, for that's what they'd call me when I went aboard." She shrugged again. "It was as simple as that. I spent years on that ship before I revealed that I was a woman. But it matters little now. I've left the life for good. What about you? How did you become a Grey Warden."

Duncan had been listening attentively. Drinking from his mug and neatly wiping the droplets from his moustache – which Shiva would have preferred to lick off for him. The tale of his youth unraveled. Shiva was surprised at his background – how he was no more than a petty thief and had murdered a Grey Warden, then was made to take his place. The events changed him; that much was obvious. There was no way she could have guessed the refined, mature man that saved her came from such a past.

"Duncan, what is it with Grey Wardens and promoting those who wrong them?" She laughed at the realization of their conduct. "I'm half expecting you to say it's customary to shower non-darkspawn enemies in riches."

Duncan snorted. "Hardly, unless your idea of riches is a sword to the midsection." He grew serious. "Grey Wardens are not to be trifled with."

"What is it that sets us – or you all apart? Simply gathering the best of the best? There must be some degree of unity or some other tie that makes the Grey Wardens so effective."

"Blood," he stated simply. "Beyond that, you will learn only when you are truly one of us."

Their conversation went on for nearly two more hours. They stopped drinking after their third or fourth pint when they were sufficiently inebriated.

They stopped speaking when several templars were marching down the hall. Duncan's brows were furrowed when he recognized the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander both leading the force. Duncan and Shiva stood and followed.

They stopped at the top of the stairs that led down to the basement. Jowan, Solona, and an unknown chantry initiate had just come up from it and they all looked like cornered rats. Whatever passed between them had already gotten heated by the time they rounded the corner to witness what was happening. Shiva saw Jowan draw a knife and stab his hand. The tip of the knife emerged from the back of his hand and he summoned a force from the wound that made a rushing arc of blood. It knocked down everyone who stood before him; the initiate had cowered behind him in horror and Solona had stepped forward to see what he was doing. Solona was caught by the force and knocked back as well, though only her left shoulder since she stood mostly outside the spells reach. She spun backwards and fell down the stairs. Jowan ran towards the entrance of the tower before the templars could rise. The initiate had run down the stairs to check on the mage that fell below sight.

"Help! Her neck is broken! Healer!" The First Enchanter rose from the ground and limped down the stairs, only to clamber back up after a quick examination.

"Gregoir, she is dead. The fall broke her neck, as Lily said, and killed her."

The Knight-Commander roared in anger and imprisoned the initiate in the mage's prison. The templars had all recovered but there was nothing for them to do about the matter since Jowan had broken into the basement to destroy whatever it was that the templars used to track apostates down.

After Solona's body was taken outside to be burnt on a pyre, Duncan and Shiva decided it was best to leave soon. The other mages were unsuitable for their purpose. They returned to Duncan's quarters to pack for the mornings departure. Shiva slept in the apprentice's quarters with Loki at the foot of her bed.

Orzammar was their next destination. Duncan hoped they would have more luck there in finding another recruit. It was the last stop he dared make before going back to Ostagar.


	4. This Little Nuggy Went to Market

Borrowed Time, Ch 4 – This Little Nuggy Went to Market…

AN: Need to give poor Duncan another actual recruit. But whoever will it be?

* * *

Duncan, Shiva, and Loki walked through the Commons on the way to the Proving Grounds. They had spent the last three days in the Diamond Quarter, feasting with King Aeducan and his many guests. Shiva forgot how much she enjoyed roast nug with that deep mushroom cream sauce. Her attempts to remake the dish were becoming less and less of a failure and she had almost replicated it exactly the last time she tried. Duncan was considering taking her to the Deep Roads to encounter some darkspawn, but they had been engaged with dwarven ceremonies and banquets. She hadn't even had time to see if she could run into her old friend in Tapster's Tavern.

The whole time they were there, Duncan had been in a singular mood. He was quick to smile and his quirk about raising his eyebrows high when he spoke with a grin showed more frequently. "I must admit I'm rather fond of dwarves. They are a hardy race, and highly logical and inventive. It would not surprise me if their example led Ferelden into an age of advancing instruments."

They entered a grand lobby that Shiva had never been in before, even with all her previous trips there to smuggle furs, silks, and gold in exchange for lyrium. Spectators were gathered, gossiping about the Proving that would be held in honor of Duncan's arrival.

As Duncan finished speaking to the Proving Master, two dwarves approached him, both with brands on their faces. Shiva recognized them as casteless and was surprised they were allowed in. Dwarves could be complete assholes at times. Most of the time, except when they were happily drunk. Duncan noticed their approached and bowed to them.

"Stone-met and blessings upon your house. That was the proper greeting for an outsider last time I visited Orzammar. Has it changed? Or is there a reason you are looking at me so strangely."

_It's probably because your beard is nicer than his. _

"It was just… nicer than I expected. I'm not of any house, by the way. And yes, you can have me arrested for harassing you." The one that spoke had a green brand crossing his forehead and following his brow down to his cheekbone. Shiva never could tell how they thought of their designs.

"My friend, to a Grey Warden nothing short of a slavering darkspawn in your bedroll counts as harassment." He was cheerful enough to encourage Shiva to actually voice one of the lewd thoughts that crossed her mind.

"What about finding a slavering pirate?" Duncan laughed heartily.

"There is no need for flattery, dear girl. I'm already recruiting you."

The dwarf that had been silent stepped up. "Pirate? Don't tell me you're Captain Shiv – you beat that deshyr at a drinking contest in Tapsters! How in the Paragons of old did you do that?!"

"I have a strong stomach and an empty head to avoid drink's ill affects, my branded friend. I remember seeing you too. You were rooting for me." It was rare for Shiva to have to look down to meet someone's eyes, considering how petite she was.

"With an ass like yours, I can't imagine anyone who wouldn't." Shiva laughed and spoke in an aside to Duncan.

"You're right. They are a courageous race." The two dwarves had an exchange, mentioning they should head on to take care of business for Beraht. "Oh, he's still around? I thought nug shit disappeared into the stone after a few weeks time." The casteless guffawed – not too pleased with their employer, she presumed.

"Spoken like someone who knows the nug-humping bastard."

"Yeah. He tried to get me to ship quite large quantities of lyrium for him for only a small cut. I told him he could shove the lyrium straight up the fat ass he had his head in." Her recount of their conversation was met with more snickering.

"Too bad we can't exactly get away with that." The dwarf that recognized her – the one with black braids pulled together into a ponytail and blue eyes – looked resigned about the fact.

Duncan bid farewell to the dwarves. "It sounds like someone you had best not displease. I hope you find all you seek." He headed to the balcony to take his place as their honored guest. Shiva parted from the dwarves as well to let them get back to their thug tasks. She went to sit in the stands with the rest of the audience to watch the Proving.

She could see Duncan from where she sat. He stood among them like a Paragon of Dignity.

Shiva had to admit, she was jealous of the fighters. Her spar with Duncan, Aedan, and Ser Gilmore several days before had been grand fun. Provings were more organized, but hardly different as far as the combat went. She was entertained though. After the second win of the warrior Everd, she started mentally betting on him. The Proving got more interesting when a drunken dwarf staggered into the arena.

_Now this is more like it._

The stone around them caused all vocalizations to resonate, so everyone heard the drunk slurring, "Ey, dass my armurr." His large, unsteady feet could hardly keep him upright. His arms swung comically around his stout torso.

It was declared by the Proving Master that the drunk was Everd and the one in his armor was an impostor. The crowd roared at the unexpected turn of events. The impostor removed his helmet and was none other than one of Beraht's thugs that she and Duncan had spoken to earlier. He recognized the dwarf as well and when the crowd roared once more, he sat silently, assuming the same pondering position he did when he was about to recruit Shiva. He scratched at his beard idly when the Proving Master called the guards to arrest him. Hearing this, Duncan turned from the edge of the balcony to address his decision.

"This Proving is not solely for you, Grey Warden. There are traditions, laws! He is casteless. The ancestors do not favor him. His very footsteps pollute the stone! He has no place here." The Proving Master was pointing and gesturing wildly for emphasis. Duncan stood still and calm before him, as usual.

"Except as your champion." Duncan shrugged his arms when he made his final point. It had to be said, but he knew there was no changing the stubborn old dwarf's mind.

Shiva went to Tapster's after the Proving. Her drinking buddy was nowhere in sight, but she was watching two dwarves in a drinking contest, wondering which would pass out first. It was pretty much a tie. They leaned on the table in the back corner and would serve as entertainment while she waited for Duncan. Braiding their beards together was all the amusement she needed before she heard someone clear their throat behind her.

He was looking past her, struggling to conceal his amusement at her mischief. "Perhaps we should take a meal here. There will not be another feast at the Royal Palace until tomorrow evening." Food was always a good way to lure her away from her task. They ordered nug steaks and stayed at Tapsters for the next hour, commenting on this and that and listening to the drunken singers standing on the table on the far side of the room.

When they emerged from the tavern, they saw guards lining the commons. They were searching for the impersonator and his accomplice who never made it to the jails.

"There they are!" The Proving Master was on the streets with the guards. He had indeed found the two casteless dwarves. They were emerging from one of the shops. Duncan and Shiva approached with the throng of guards.

The braided dwarf held his hands up to make them slow before them. "Hey, don't arrest us. You should be thanking us! We just killed Beraht!"

"What?" The Proving Master didn't know whether to believe him or not. "Beraht had many enemies, but also powerful allies. I don't know what this means…"

Duncan stepped to the front of the line. "Once again you prove your worth. Grey Wardens travel far and wide in search of such daring individuals. It seems I have found some."

"Oh, sod it." The other dwarf spoke up. "You know they won't let us anywhere. Leske, we have to fight our way to the surface. It's the only way." The dwarf raised his daggers and charged at the guards to his right. Leske was in shock at his sudden, foolish move. Duncan dragged Leske away next to Shiva.

"Guard this one, I will try to stop-" He was interrupted by a cry of pain. The dwarf had been run through and was being bashed with the guard's shield. Duncan couldn't make it to save the dwarf before he was killed. "Enough!" The guards saw Leske made no move to attack and Duncan still did not have his weapons drawn. No one could strike at them and retain their precious honor. "I am leaving with this dwarf. He is my recruit and is under my authority now." Shiva had not seen him be so forceful, but knew he must have had it in him all along. "I must bid you all goodbye. I need to return to Ostagar with my recruits." Duncan led them to the Royal Palace to get the dog and pack their belongings. Leske had no belongings and was eager to enter the Diamond Quarter for the first time in his life.

"Sodding stone, what just happened?" Leske was whispering to Shiva as Duncan marched ahead.

"You're going to become a Grey Warden, as am I. It's a great opportunity and don't worry about it. Besides, you'll be fighting darkspawn. Familiar, right?"

Leske grunted. "I've never even seen a darkspawn!"

"Well, you will now. Tell me, what is there to stay for? Have you any family?" She realized she was walking fast as well, so she slowed to have the dwarf keep up with his short, thick legs.

"Nah, my buddy was all I had. I guess I'm not really leaving anything behind. Dust Town was nothing but a nug's asshole anyway." The dwarf was still at a loss. He would get the hang of it in time. Shiva had to wonder what his reaction to the surface would be.

His reaction to Loki was a sight all on its own. "Holy shit! Is that a Mabari? I've never seen one before. He could swallow a nug whole! Sod it, he could swallow me whole!" Loki bounded up to the dwarf and stood on his hind legs, paws on the dwarf's unique leather armor to lick his face. Shiva had little more than Leske did so she was ready within minutes.

Duncan announced his departure to King Aeducan. The recruits were present and Leske was squirming where he stood. King Endrin was surprised a duster was the recruit, but he was not cruel. "Represent our people well, son. During a Blight is the time a dwarf has the chance to prove his worth to surfacers." Leske's eyes were the size of boulders.

"I won't fail, your Majesty."

* * *

Ostagar was several days away. With their dwarven companion, it took only one more evening to drain the contents of the mead barrel.

She found the dwarf was easily spooked when he was drunk. "Do you still worry about being sucked up into the sky?"

He groaned and stayed silent so long that it made the pirate think he didn't intend to answer. "Every damn minute."

"There's nothing to fear. It thinks dwarves are too tough. If it swallows you up, it'll probably just spit you back out. Just pray to your ancestors that it spits you out over a body of water so you don't break all your bones in that long fall." Leske was paler than the stones he lived among all his life.

As an apology, Shiva gave the emptied barrel to Leske so he could store whatever he found while he traveled with them. Duncan donated to his stock by giving him the axe of a dwarven warden that had belonged to the Aeducan house. It was given to Duncan during their stay in Orzammar.

During their journey, Leske began to bug Duncan about women he knew, and women he _knew_. Duncan divulged no information on the matter, so Shiva distracted him by saying there were plenty of women wherever there was a sizable settlement. She talked as if they were all as promiscuous as the women that she had on her ship. He lustily tittered at her wild tales about the raunchy ladies.

Their travels brought them east through Gherlen's Pass, then south along The Imperial Highway to Ostagar.

* * *

"Ho there, Duncan!" Five armored men approached, four of which wore average, matching armor. The man walking at the head and center wore golden armor accented with black and burgundy.

"King Cailan! I didn't expect a-" The king took Cailan's outstretched hand and shook it firmly.

"A royal welcome? I was beginning to worry you'd miss all the fun." He was friendly. The king's grin caused his eyes to squint nearly shut. His hair was long and blonde, like his father Maric's.

"Not if I could help it, your Majesty."

"Then I will have the mighty Duncan by my side after all. Glorious!"

Shiva couldn't blame the king for wanting to practically snuggle up to Duncan. She couldn't help but envy Duncan a little as well - the king was _handsome_. Better yet, being caught between them... oh Maker! "The other wardens said you found promising recruits. I take it they are here?" King Cailan turned to Shiva. "Ho there, friend. Might I know your name?"

"I doubt it, but anything is possible." From Duncan's shifting beside her, Shiva guessed he wished her to be more respectful. Thankfully he had a decent sense of humor since he responded to her retort with a hearty laugh.

"You've caught a lively one, Duncan." She opened her mouth to respond with something flirty, but remembered being in Denerim around the time of his wedding to Anora.

_Oh well, the whole golden, cheery, Ser Sunshine type is the last kind of man I'd want anyway._

"And you, my stout friend?" Cailan stood before the dwarf with the same welcoming air.

"My name is Leske, your Majesty." He gave a formal bow. For a poor duster, he showed better manners than Shiva.

"I welcome you both. It is a great honor to join the Wardens. I trust both of you will achieve grand glory in the battle."

Duncan and Cailan continued speaking about armies and Blights and such. She found the king too openly giddy about the whole thing. Noting Duncan's concern, she started to get a dark feeling in the pit of her stomach. In the past, she contained her own excitement when a battle was coming, and even those events were on a much smaller scale since there wasn't an entire army on either side. Cailan reluctantly bade them farewell.

A stone bridge separated where they stood from the encampment. Duncan gave them instructions on what to do next. They were to find a Warden named Alistair and meet back with him to prepare for a ritual called the Joining.

Shiva was on her own for now. Duncan went ahead to the encampment with Loki and Leske followed to explore on his own. She slowly meandered across the bridge, looking out over the valley below her. Once across, a few templars stood before a group of mages that looked like they were kneading some floating blue essence. Nearby, there was an elderly mage leaning against a tree with her arms crossed.

"You are not making sparks fly with your fellow spitfires?"

The old woman turned to her then. "Greetings, young lady. No, they do not require my aid at this time."

Shiva leaned against the tree beside the senior mage. She hadn't spoken to one outside the tower in quite some time and found them more agreeable when they were free to enjoy the open air – the ones that were familiar enough with the world beyond their towers to not be so damn skittish, that is. "The chaperones seem a little tense."

"Templars are like that. They take their duty very seriously. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Wynne." Duncan spoke of her before - the ale connoisseur. She didn't seem like a drunken old biddy. She was elderly but still had a youthful form and an elegance about her.

"The name's Shiva."

"Shiva, deity of destruction and the arts. As fair and majestic as an ice clad mountain." Shiva was trying to suppress her smile. She shrugged.

"I try to live up to it. But that's what I like about you mages. You all seem to know everything."

"Far from it, unfortunately, but thank you. I see you're just getting in. Are you Duncan's recruit?"

"I am."

"Surely he has something better for you to do than to stand here talking to me."

Shiva sighed and pushed herself off the tree. "Right you are. It was nice meeting you, Wynne."

"And you, dear."

Shiva couldn't recall the last time she had actually met a _nice_ old person. Most she had experienced were either drooling parasites or hateful old bats, like her own grandmother.

There was a wide ramp ahead of her, which Shiva headed up. To her right there was another raised area with a man similar to Duncan's description. He was currently arguing with another mage, each response from him was more and more witty. It didn't take long for him to drive the mage off.

"You know, one good thing about a blight is how it brings people together." He sauntered toward Shiva, obviously feeling victorious. She didn't blame him.

"Is that so?" She responded with a smile.

"It's like a party! We can all stand in a circle and hold hands. That would give the darkspawn something to think about. Wait, we haven't met. I don't suppose you'd be another mage."

"The only spells I do are with letters, so no worries." Shiva realized how corny she must have sounded and hoped she wouldn't blush. She had not been around so many people in months, and her shy side was starting to resurface. It didn't help that she was far inland and therefore completely out of her element. It felt nice following orders again though. She was a follower at heart, but did not have trouble taking lead when there was no one else to do so.

"Less being yelled at for me then." If he noticed anything especially lame about her response, he didn't indicate it – much to Shiva's relief.

"Hah, not necessarily!"

"Oh great, we have a temperamental female in our midst. Though, it could be a nice change, there aren't many women that join."

"Aw, from that cute face of yours, I imagine women would be flocking this direction to be near you, even if it meant becoming a Grey Warden." He blushed and did what could only be described as a man's awkward giggle.

"Uh, heh heh. Wow, you're forwa-, a- anyway, as junior member of the order, I'll be accompanying you while you prepare for the Joining. If you have any questions let me know. Otherwise, go to Duncan and I'll round up the other recruits." With the goofy smile he had plastered to his face, he looked exactly like the king. Shiva let it go though, she didn't want to bring anymore attention to his appearance, considering the scarlet shade his cheeks turned at her last comment. She nodded and went towards where Duncan was standing by the fire.

A stocky man at the foot of the ramp beckoned her over. "Have you seen an elf running around here? Red hair, carrying a suit of chain."

"Can't say that I have. You are the quartermaster, correct?" She purchased a dagger so she could return the one she had borrowed from Duncan, though she really, _really_ liked it. Her coin purse was a few bits away from completely empty.

Shiva was the first of the recruits to return to Duncan. She handed him his dagger. When everyone else was present, Alistair introduced the recruits to each other. Ser Jory was a wide-eyed, chivalrous type from Highever. He looked a bit lost. Daveth was a rogue, attractive and scruffy. He had a long, chiseled face and full lips. He did nothing to hide how his eyes wandered along Shiva's body. Leske had been talking to the other recruits when they approached. He already got along well with Daveth.

"Good, you're all here. Let us begin. You five will be heading to the Korcari Wilds to collect three vials of darkspawn blood. There are also some Grey Warden documents in some ruins to the north. Return here when you have retrieved them."

The recruits understood what they had to do and headed for the wilds under Alistair's guidance.


	5. We're Not in Kansas Anymore

Borrowed Time, Ch 5 – We're Not in Kansas Anymore

AN: I'm from Louisiana. Swampy places are totally like home to me. I'd probably be a Witch of the Wilds if I lived in Thedas XD

* * *

The wilds were a chilly, foggy swampland. Shiva loved it. Daveth seemed a bit jumpy, and Ser Jory's large eyes constantly darted around from the instant they passed through the gate to the wilds. It was hard to tell whether Leske was any more uneasy from the surroundings, but it was clear he didn't like the sloshing of the ground anytime he took a step.

Daveth moved toward the center of their small group and was the first to voice his concerns. "I've heard stories about the beasts in these wilds. Walking trees that will pick you up and crush you with their branchy fingers. Witches that will turn you into toads. Barbarians that will slaughter you and eat you!"

"So long as they do the slaughtering before the eating, I won't complain too much." The four turned to look at Shiva, thoroughly creeped out. She just shrugged. "What?" They shook their heads in response and continued.

_Small group of skittish men? Check. Creepy first impression from the only woman? Check. _

Shiva smiled at their occasional glances back at her, knowing she was already deemed 'the weird girl.'

A long howl made all five of them stop. Three or four more howls came from straight ahead. One more to their left, much too close for comfort. Several wolves emerged from the bushes. Everyone drew their weapons. Shiva and Daveth stayed in the back, Ser Jory, Leske, and Alistair charged at the large group before them.

The wolf that emerged behind the group was approaching Shiva. She could see all teeth and reddened gums from its snarl. She had been bitten by a dog before, one considered docile compared to these mutts. She wasn't eager to repeat the experience. When the wolf leapt for her, she dodged, moving backwards. It landed beside her and when it turned its head to snap at her thigh, she sunk her blade into the back of its neck and withdrew it with a twist. The wolf fell, gurgling and in spasms.

They quickly finished off the rest of the wolves. Daveth's arrows whizzed past Ser Jory and Alistair, striking with moderate accuracy. Considering the last archer Shiva saw was a former Dalish elf in the Amaranthine archery contest, she wasn't too impressed.

They collected the best pelts and continued. They didn't get far before they heard some more rustling. Turning to the left, there was carnage – a cart with a broken wheel, slaughtered cattle, and bodies. One man was dragging himself through the middle of the path, toward where they stood. They approached him. He was a scout from the army.

"This sod's not going anywhere unless he gets patched up." Shiva

observed. She knelt to inspect his wounds.

"I have bandages in my pack." Alistair held some out to Shiva. "Would you?"

Shiva nodded and did her best to patch him up. She had a physician on the Revenant after the healer she had was stabbed and tossed overboard. After some battles when she could spare the time, she would help him bandage up the crew. Her least favorite was when they had to amputate. She remembered one incident most clearly - a mage on the other ship severely burned one of her men. His arm was completely scorched through, from fingers to midway up his upper arm. She stood by him, promising compensation and plenty of time to rest after it was all over. She felt she had good bedside manner. It was the one time she would show the men how much she cared about them. She did her best to distract them. She did this on numerous occasions, becoming more skilled in herbalism and treatment than the doctor's twit of an apprentice.

She dismissed the thoughts of her crew and listened to the report from the scout. Darkspawn had done this, and recently. They were probably still nearby. They helped the scout to his feet and he limped toward the camp. He would probably make it since they had just cleared the path. Of course, he could still collapse from shock at any moment, but there wasn't much they could do about that.

_Dead man walking._

"Did you hear?" Ser Jory started. "An entire band of soldiers taken out by darkspawn, just like that! We don't stand a chance! I am no coward, but this is foolish and reckless. We should turn back."

"You begin a whiny rant about abandoning our mission at the second hint of danger and you say 'I am no coward?' The more you speak and squirm as you have, the more you prove that you are indeed a coward."

"A little fear isn't unnatural, you know. I know I don't relish the thought of seeing one." Alistair's voice was comforting, though it did little for Ser Jory. Probably because one of those words he said was too big for the knight to understand. If Shiva were scared it would have had much more of an effect on her, to be sure.

For now, Shiva rolled her eyes. This useless prattle was keeping her from all the action. "We never will see one if we stand here all day. Besides, I look forward to killing a few."

"Bloodthirstiness is such a charming feature too. Did you know that?" Even Alistair was starting to get on her nerves, so to hell with it. Shiva started walking ahead. She saw a strange flower that caught her eye and remembered passing the kennel master back in the camp. He had been mumbling about some medicinal flower in the wilds. She took the one she saw, hoping that was it, and wondering just how much it would be worth to him. She heard Alistair continue coddling Ser Jory behind her. "Know this, all Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn so I can assure you they won't take us by surprise. That's why I'm here."

Daveth spoke up. "You see, Ser knight? We might die, but we'll be warned about it first." Shiva was quickly beginning to like Daveth. He was amusing, and she could instantly tell he was the recruit Duncan spoke of, the one that tried to rob him.

_Only thing I've been offered after robbing someone is to guard a prison cell, from the inside. I clearly robbed the wrong person. _

The guys caught up to her and she let them walk ahead, staying in the back with Daveth. "So, sweet thing," he started, "any last wishes I can help fulfill when we get back to the ruins? Life is fleeting you know. That pretty face can be decorating some darkspawn spear this time tomorrow."

Shiva walked closer to Daveth and linked arms with him. "When you say 'last wishes' is having a whole roast cooked just for me out of the question? I haven't had a good meal in months."

"That's not quite what I was talking about," he joked. "I'm no cook anyway, that's your job! I could offer something more physical."

"Archery lessons? I've always wanted to be able to shoot three arrows at once."

Daveth grinned and shook his head, finally impatient with her coy act. "You know damn well what I'm talking about, love." He pulled his arm back and wrapped it around her waist, pressing them together, which made walking more difficult. "If you really like archery, I could show you a few moves, but only a few because I lost my quiver." He leaned close to her ear and spoke breathily. "Perhaps I could put my arrow in yours?"

Shiva busted out laughing. "Makers breath, you'll have to come up with something better than that!" She stopped and grabbed his face. "Ease up, big fella. You wouldn't last 5 minutes with me." She brushed her lips against his. His tongue dart out and lick her bottom lip. She bit it and retreated.

Turning away from Daveth, she jogged ahead to catch up with Alistair, Leske, and Ser Jory. Daveth followed behind her, not being subtle about checking her out at all. Not that she minded.

Alistair was in the lead so they all noticed when he tensed, and slowed to a stop. He held his arm out for the rest of them to still. There was a noise – a low, constant grumbling that came from the top of the hill in front of them. The hair rose on Shiva's neck and she noticed the foul smell coming from ahead. A green, half putrefied creature came forward, hunched over with a bloody sword in hand. It seemed like it was once a dwarf, from its size.

More like the first emerged behind it. They shuffled toward them, the grunting escalated into an unmistakable battle cry – Shiva, Leske and Alistair drew their weapons, she heard Daveth draw his bow behind her. Jory looked frozen in place.

The darkspawn rushed forward, as did Alistair, Leske, and Shiva.

As she ran past a still paralyzed Ser Jory, she patted him on the back. "Wake up, scaredy! They aren't going to kill themselves!" Thankfully this was enough to stir him, he drew his sword and joined the battle.

The darkspawn were more difficult than Shiva expected. She heard they were mindless creatures, mute beside their ominous growls. But they showed unmistakable combat efficiency, and even organization, like they were a well-trained army. If this was so, and this "horde" in the wilds was made up of hundreds of these creatures, she completely understood Duncan's reservation. Not that she was any less enthusiastic than before about killing them.

The first she killed was not the once-dwarf. It was nearly a full foot taller than her. When it charged at her, she moved to the side and locked its arm under hers, slicing through the muscle so it dropped its sword behind her. She was offered a closer look than she ever wanted, even when she didn't know what to expect. The green, loose skin of its face was covered in wounds and sores. Its eyes were beyond bloodshot with a cloudy film covering them. It had lost its hair, save a few short strands sticking up like bristles. When she cut its arm it roared in pain, throwing its head back and then lowering to look her dead in the eye and continue roaring in her face. Its teeth were filed and chipped. She nearly gagged when its breath gusted across her face. She could see to the back of its throat since its mouth was agape – all swollen, raw, and splotched purple and red. She had enough – she took her dagger with her left hand so her right could continue to hold its arm in place, and shoved her dagger up into its chin and in its brain. The roar died down into a wheeze as it fell back.

She wasn't going to lie - she was _shaken_. With the same pride she had that wouldn't allow the witnesses of her execution to see her fear, she composed herself and looked for her next target. Alistair had two darkspawn corpses at his feet and was now working on a third with Leske. Ser Jory was battling the first they had seen, and another beside it was moving forward, being halted by Daveth's arrows. Five stuck from its chest.

Shiva turned around and picked up the discarded longsword with her right hand, and beheaded the darkspawn Daveth had been shooting. She came up behind the darkspawn Ser Jory was fighting and, with a twirl for momentum, slashed its torso with both dagger and longsword. At the same time, the last darkspawn fell before Alistair, dead. The recruits stood in shock, Ser Jory and Daveth meeting eyes and silently agreeing that they had enough of the wilds for now. Leske stared at the creatures, wondering how he could have lived so close to the Deep Roads and never come across them. Shiva knelt by one darkspawn corpse and sunk her dagger into its throat, letting blood pour out into one of the vials Duncan had given them. Daveth, Leske, and Ser Jory saw this and remembered their own.

"There you have them." Alistair spoke up, solemnly. "Darkspawn."

"No adequate warning about the whole cunning, rotten part of their being," Shiva grumbled bitterly, "but no matter. They die as any other creature. Shall we move on?" She stood straight, as composed as one who had done this before – which as Alistair noticed by her confrontation with the first one, she clearly had not. He nodded and stepped forward as the other three capped their now full vials.

They came across several more darkspawn and dealt with them quickly. They were beginning to adjust to combat with them, though they were noticeably quieter than when they entered the wilds.

After defeating two larger groups of them, which were organized into ambushes, they reached the ruins Duncan said the treaties could be found. Shiva passed through the arches first, seeing a broken chest and hoping what they needed wasn't once being held there. As luck would have it, that was likely the case. She squatted and removed the pieces of the lid that covered it. The men stood behind her, Alistair opened his mouth to ask if they were there when they were addressed by a female voice.

"Well, well, what have we here?" Each of them turned quickly, Ser Jory and Daveth reached for their weapons. "Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger, poking amidst bones that have long since been cleaned? Or merely an intruder, coming into these darkspawn filled wilds of mine in search of easy prey?"

Shiva approached the woman as she neared them as well. She was attractive – dark hair pulled back to reveal a smooth neck, she had full lips and sultry, mystic eyes that were a cat-eye yellow shade. She walked as if she did own the place – a queen despite the torn robes she wore.

"What say you, hmm? Scavenger or intruder."

Shiva was the one to respond since the men were busy standing with their jaws slack from either her beauty or wondering if she was yet another danger the wilds had to offer. "We seek a specific artifact. And who are you to lay claim on the area? An actual inhabitant or were you simply here first?"

"I know these wilds only as one who owns them could." She was not interested in the men behind her - she was sizing up Shiva. "I have been following your progress for quite some time. 'Where do they go, I wonder? Why are they here?' and what is this specific artifact that you seek?" As the wilds woman passed her to stand on the raised ground near the exit, Shiva noticed that the stranger was taller than she. Shiva came up to her nose, possibly up to her eyebrows.

Daveth nervously whispered in an aside to the rest of their group, as if the woman couldn't hear. "Well if she took them, she'd know what it was so we should leave."

"Not necessarily, for my mother found something that may be of interest. Some old Grey Warden documents, I believe?" She stood on the small hill, hands on her hips. She was looking down her nose at them. Shiva ignored her 'tough girl' act. Daveth, however, was still sputtering behind them.

"No, don't listen to anything she says! She's a Witch of the Wilds. She'll turn us into toads!"

Leske chuckled beside Daveth. "Give me a moment alone with her, witch or no. I'll treat her right and she can turn me into anything she wants." He did an awful imitation of a toad's croak.

Shiva was ready to get things moving again. "If you led us to her and our treaties were returned, we would have no further need to be here and would leave. Does this seem reasonable?"

"Tis reasonable, indeed." The woman smiled. "I like you. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

"I'd be careful," Alistair warned. "First it's 'I like you,' and then zap! Frog time."

Shiva ignored his comment. "My name is Shiva. Pleased to meet you."

"Now that is a proper, civilized greeting for out here in the wilds. You may call me Morrigan. You wish to meet my mother and have your documents returned? Follow me then, if it pleases you."

They followed her to her mother, who was a cackling harpy. She warned them to be careful about the Blight – acting as though it was her superior wisdom that led her to this advice. Their treaties were returned and Morrigan led them to the edge of the wilds, where they returned to the camp without further hindrance.

* * *

Duncan was with some mages preparing the Joining ritual. Alistair was elsewhere in the camp, as were Daveth and Leske. Ser Jory was kneeling by where a priestess was praying over several other soldiers. Shiva had given the flower to the kennel master and got coin for giving him the flower.

She sat against a column by the fire. There was a large green tent behind her with a guard posted at the entrance. There was yelling inside, she could easily make out what they were saying.

"Cailan, stop talking about the Wardens and their recruits! I need you to focus, if you are even capable of it."

"Don't talk to me like that. I hear what you are saying and until the meeting tonight, going over the same boring strategies is pointless! I've had enough!" The second voice was Cailan, unmistakably. The first, she did not recognize.

Shiva heard heavy boots stomping out of the tent and a deep sigh. The tread slowed and was wandering towards the fire.

"Shiva! You've returned from the wilds! I trust no one was injured?" She looked up and saw King Cailan standing near.

"Nothing we couldn't handle. Everyone's fine."

"I'm glad to hear it. Would you like to come with me? I'm most interested in learning more about you."

Shiva raised her eyebrow, wondering why he was wasting time like this when there were surely a hundred matters he should tend to, but accepted anyway. He offered his hand to help her up. He led her toward another guarded tent. They entered what she assumed to be his tent from his ease and its furnishings. They sat at two chairs and Cailan began, "Tell me how you met Duncan."

Shiva smirked, already deciding to go for the honest approach. But she'd work up to it. "I saw him in a crowd and we stared at one another for some time."

"You two stared at each other in a crowd?" Cailan laughed. "Why? Surely there's more to it than that!"

"He had caught my eye. He stood out."

"How did he stand out?"

"He was the only one armored, not shaking his fist, spitting on the ground or shouting. He didn't seem nervous as some others did either. He was remarkably calm for someone witnessing such an event."

"Event? What was taking place?"

"My execution."

Cailan's mouth dropped at this. "Oh. My, that's a surprise. Had you been wrongly accused?"

"No, I've been a bad girl." Her tone remained friendly, with just a hint of _too_ friendly at her last statement. The corner of his mouth slightly tilted up at this, but only for a second.

"What did they charge you with?"

"Piracy, resisting arrest and murdering some of the guards in the process."

"You're a pirate?"

"I was. I had been on land with little intention of returning to the sea for several weeks before my arrest, and that was months ago." She would keep most of the tale to herself. There was something about being disgraced and having your crew mutiny that made her more withdrawn than before. It also did dampen her desire to sail. Thankfully, she could adjust to pretty much any environment.

"I've heard of a rather infamous pirate that operated in the Waking Sea. She's supposed to be a dark haired, beautiful woman. Could that be you?"

"Most likely." She smirked at having the king recognize her. He didn't seem put off; in fact he looked like a wide-eyed child about to beg for a story.

"You must have grand tales of your exploits then!"

_How did I guess that was coming?_

"I doubt you'd be bored with my stories." He was just so easy to read and tease. She became a bit alarmed when his expression darkened.

"But, you must have harmed a great deal of innocents. Surely you have some mercy." He looked sad at this realization.

_Oh, damn those puppy eyes. I suppose there's no harm in telling him the truth about that, considering it is unlikely I'll ever set sail again._

"Never." She simply stated. When he didn't lighten up, she knew he misunderstood. "What I mean is, I never harmed an innocent. Not to my knowledge anyway. It is true I kill many others I come across, but only if their activities are as illegal as my own. For instance, I have come across several slave ships and freed their 'cargo.'" She watched Cailan as her words sunk in. "Your Majesty, I am no villain. My heart bleeds when I see an innocent wronged. It was beneficial to me to be thought of as a villain. Though it is true I have no mercy, my blade is not drawn for anyone."

Cailan finally relaxed. "I believe you. Shiva, you have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that. But did the guard not listen to you when you told them this?"

"I did not mention it. A rabid dog should still be put down."

Cailan leaned forward and placed his hand on her shoulder. Shiva was quiet, unused to being so open about her feelings about such matters and already regretting it. "You are no rabid dog. You have done a great service, getting rid of slavers and ruthless pirates as you have. And now you will aid our forces against the Blight to rid my country of their taint. I- and everyone here- are in your debt."

Shiva shook her head. She had left out much of the gory details, he would have probably kept his gratitude to a minimum had he known better, but she was grateful all the same.

When he saw her remain silent, he spoke on, "I figured you were a strong, captivating woman the moment I laid eyes on you, but I could not have expected you to be so fascinating." Shiva saw the depth of feeling in his eyes and furrowed her brow. Grateful as she was, he was moving into a whole new realm of feeling that she didn't want to share with anyone just yet, especially a married man.

She felt his hand slide up from her shoulder, up to the back of her neck. He leaned forward, at the same time pulling her towards him. When her crew did such a thing - usually only when they were drunk beyond reasonable thought - she would pick up a nearby object and bash them on the head with it. Her weapon of choice during such an occasion was a fish. It was embarrassing for them and extremely amusing to her and other witnesses. Since they were usually at sea, it happened pretty often. She really wished she could slap this fool across the face with a fish right then.

She was a scoundrel, that much had been established. But one thing she couldn't stand was infidelity. She took a gentle, but still disapproving approach and put her finger to his lips to stop him. He wasn't deterred. Instead he took her hand and kissed her fingers before leaning in again. This time she put her whole hand over his mouth, as if trying to silence him, and pushed away. This seemed to make him understand.

_No ser, puppy eyes won't work this time. _

"You… Am I not as attractive to you as you are to me?" He sounded hurt. Shiva was getting angry, at herself as well as at him, for this situation.

"You would be far more attractive to me, your Majesty, if your thoughts did not stray from your _wife_." She spat her final word, causing Cailan to visibly flinch, though it is unclear whether it was simply from rejection or any actual guilt the brat-king might have.

"How could I resist such a beautiful, enchanting woman such as you?" He took both her hands in his, attempting to conquer her through flattery. Wrong move.

"Had you any semblance of strong will, it wouldn't be a problem."

"You dare criticize me? I am the King of Ferelden, and if I so choose, I have the right to-"

"At the expense of being a good husband? You would earn more respect being the latter instead of another skirt chasing lad, your supposed right or no. You, and everyone in this country, would be better off if you were less concerned about your own pleasure. Is there really nothing better you could be doing?"

Cailan let out an indignant puff of air. "Not you too…"

Shiva rose from her seat. "If that will be all, your Majesty."

Cailan collected himself enough to give an almost civil dismissal. Shiva quickly exited the tent.

Her dramatic storming off was abruptly halted by a hand seizing her upper arm. She turned toward her temporary captor, ready to follow her heated gaze with a fist to their jaw, when her eyes locked with eyes icier than her own. Drawing back, she could better see the rest of his face – his brows were drawn, lines on his face emphasizing his scowl. He was light skinned, paler than she. She could tell he was the stoic type, which was exactly what would get her blood flowing, but his sour expression did nothing to promote arousal. A few decades before, she guessed, not even that could fully dampen his good looks, but now he was aged. He had a full head of thick, black hair, but the lines on his face were a bit too deep and he had dark circles around his eyes.

He waited a few more seconds to mutter, "It would do you well to show the King of Ferelden more respect." She recognized the angry drawl from one of the voices within the green tent. From the look he was giving her, she felt she was even less welcome here than the darkspawn.

Shiva raised her eyebrow, giving him her best you've-got-to-be-shitting-me look, before replying, "I would guard the king with my life, but I will not bend over for him. In case you haven't noticed, it's a rather inopportune time for him to have his head in the clouds."

At her last words, it seemed he was struggling not to agree with her. He released her arm, a slow easing of pressure. She didn't flex her arm to ease the soreness, as was needed, and waited for whatever else he wished to say. "Nevertheless, he is Maric's son, the leader of my beloved Ferelden and a very young man. I try to keep that in mind, as should you." He looked as if he wanted to walk away then, but hesitated. "As his wife's father," he continued, "I must clarify that I am not at all displeased with your decision to decline his proposition."

_I wouldn't decline yours._

She bit her tongue to keep her betraying thoughts to herself. Now that the warrior was giving her some space, she saw he wore Orlesian armor – a perfectly polished Chevalier plate. She thought this was odd, before realizing what he had just said. She finally recognized who he was.

"Aaah, so you're Loghain."

"I am."

Shiva looked him up and down, delivered a curt nod and simply said "A pleasure," before walking away in the direction Duncan gave her earlier to do her Joining. Loghain turned to watch her a moment before entering Cailan's tent.


	6. Joining Juice

Borrowed Time, Ch 6 – Joining Juice

* * *

Shiva walked to the area she met Alistair, where the Joining would take place. Alistair, Leske, Daveth and Ser Jory were there already. The air was thick with tension. The only one here who knew what was coming was Alistair and he didn't seem at ease. Considering they had several warnings about the dangers of the Joining, she wondered just how bad it could be. Would they have to juggle knives? Do some ridiculous stunt, like dive off the side of the bridge with only a worn rope tied to their belts? Domesticate a darkspawn? Have an orgy? The last was beyond unlikely but it made her feel better. That is, until she noticed Ser Jory was moping.

"Are you blubbering again?" Obviously Daveth shared her annoyance on the matter.

"Oh no you don't," Shiva cut in. "If you're going to whine some more, just save it and shut up."

"Yeah, Ser knight, try not to wet your trousers!" Probably too late for that.

Their tag-teaming did little to quiet the nervous knight, but he finally fell silent when Duncan approached.

"At last, we come to the Joining. Centuries ago, the Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight when they drank darkspawn blood and mastered their taint."

Alistair picked up from where Duncan left off before Ser Jory could cut in, as he tried to. "Those who survive the Joining become immune to the taint and can use it to track darkspawn and slay the Archdemon."

Duncan spoke once more. "This is why Grey Wardens are required to save humanity from annihilation from the darkspawn. We speak only a few words before the ritual. Alistair, if you would."

Each one of them bowed their heads while Alistair prayed. Hanging her head caused Shiva to remember how much she disliked praying with people when she was growing up. It was common since her family was religious, and felt very much like a forced chore. She always had a headache when she raised her head after all was said and done. She had been looking around and saw Ser Jory nervously looking at the goblet of darkspawn blood, then at Duncan, who Ser Jory seemed to think had completely lost his mind.

With the prayer over, Duncan reverently took the goblet in both of his hands and approached Daveth, who drank without hesitation. A few seconds after Duncan took the chalice back and retreated, Daveth doubled over and groaned. His muscles locked up and he started yelling in pain. He grabbed his throat, choking and foaming at the mouth. He fell forward and stilled, foam still bubbling from his lips. "I'm sorry, Daveth."

Shiva and Alistair were staring at his body – Shiva wondered if her built up immunity against most poisons would help her with this. It seemed a foolish initiation to her, unless there was something she was missing. The latter seemed to be the case, since she found the Wardens' communication skills severely lacking.

Duncan held the chalice in both of his hands and turned to Ser Jory, who drew his sword, stepping away from it. "No, I cant- you ask too much. There is no glory in this!" It was obvious he wouldn't be able to put up much of a fight, the way his hand was shaking.

"There is no turning back." Duncan placed the chalice on the table and drew his sword. Ser Jory, foolish as he was, lunged. Duncan easily parried and ran him through. "I am sorry." Duncan held his dying body in an embrace before letting Jory fall. Blood pooled around him and Duncan sheathed his sword, picking up the chalice once more. Shiva looked at Duncan then. She could see how haunted he was and took the chalice when he offered it to her.

Shiva could smell the blood; its scent was far different from human blood. That smell no longer bothered her since she had been around it so much. She had read some books that romanticized drinking blood, but now as she stared into the chalice she thought it was beyond a turn off. She absently rubbed the chalice and finally drank the rest of its contents. The others thought her hesitation was fear, which actually had little to do with it. It took a few seconds for the slow burn to run down her throat, but once it reached her chest, pain shot through her torso to her head and every limb. It was sharpest right behind her eyes. She tried to put pressure there, but it didn't help. Her eyes snapped open, completely white - blind to all but some distant vision of a dragon-like creature. Both the pain and the vision faded until she was unconscious.

* * *

She awoke some time later. Moving was difficult at first, her body remembered the pain she felt before. She was aware of Duncan and Alistair's presence in a different way now, and understood what they meant by sharing the taint. There was something in her blood, warmth like she had finally drank enough ale to replace her blood with alcohol.

_So the blood thing was necessary. That's a relief. _

She felt another warmth too, beside her. She turned to see Leske sitting on the stones nursing his aching head.

"It is finished. Welcome to the Grey Wardens." Duncan and Alistair backed off so she could stand. When she was on her feet, Duncan asked how she felt. She gave the automatic 'I'm fine' response. She wasn't listening as the men continued talking to her. Alistair handed her a pendant with blood in it. As she took it from him, she nodded thanks.

"When you are able, there is a meeting with the king. I do not know why he requested your presence." Duncan wished he could give her more time to recover, but he had returned so late with her that everything was rushed. He had not expected the king to ask for her to join their meeting either.

She straightened, sharp once again. "I'll be there." Duncan turned away and headed toward the meeting. Before she followed, she walked over to the table where the chalice was and leaned against it.

Alistair approached her soon after she had taken a few breaths. "If the king wants to see you, best not keep him waiting. He might get mad, start crying! You'll feel bad and… well, it won't be pretty." He was so desperately trying to help her recover from the shock of the Joining, she couldn't help but smile. She nodded and put her hand on his shoulder. He wasn't sure what she was doing, but she gave him a gentle squeeze for her own strength and stood. They walked side by side until he veered left and went away. Shiva walked to where Duncan, Loghain, King Cailan, and a few others stood.

When she approached, she took her place beside Duncan. Loghain looked as though he was the eldest among them, and he was as stern as ever. All this added to his dominance, which he was having difficulty keeping at bay since he didn't have authority over the king or Duncan. It was evident this was causing him a great deal of frustration and he was nearly at the point of throwing his arms in the air and saying 'fuck it.' For the moment, he was arguing with King Cailan about Orlesian aid.

"Our arguments with the Orlesians are a thing of the past. And you will remember who is king." Way for Cailan to put his foot down, but Shiva did not agree with him. In her opinion, hostilities from such a war could not die within such few decades. Ferelden's forces would be weakened by the Blight. If Orlesians were invited they could see just to what extent and know how much force it would take to reclaim the territory they had invaded and eventually lost. It wasn't a sure thing, but there was a chance, and if it would be Ferelden who would primarily be opposing the darkspawn, the Orlesians would take fewer losses. They would be caught between two hostile armies without realizing it. Sure, Ferelden had defeated them before, but only one of the heroes from that war remained, and he was being reprimanded by a young monarch who thought he knew better.

Shiva shook her head. It was a recipe for disaster.

This part of the argument reminded her of a father, or in this case father-in-law, who was trying to convince his wayward child to eat his vegetables. Cailan resisted, turning his nose up against wisdom, and Loghain gave up. Thankfully, the Orlesians would not be invited at this time, but it was still something Cailan would consider. That subject was dismissed.

Cailan turned to Duncan, now asking about the Grey Wardens. He turned to Shiva as well and congratulated her for going through the Joining. He seemed to have recovered from the sting to his ego she dealt him earlier. He had already gone back to his previous excitement.

The strategy was finally laid out. Shiva and Alistair were assigned a post by the beacon and would light it, signaling Loghain and his men to charge from behind cover. It was a good plan, so long as the tower remained untouched. But the way it was so quickly thought through had the bad feeling Shiva felt before return. There was something that wasn't being considered. Besides that, having two Grey Wardens doing such a task seemed redundant, especially since Loghain already had men posted there.

"It will be done, your Majesty." Shiva was not a strategist when it came to land battles. She could not maneuver armies like that – not when they would become scattered in such a large area, unlike at sea when they were confined to ships. She left it to the men.

They were dismissed. Duncan and Shiva met Alistair by the fire and told him what they would have to do. He wasn't pleased about not being in the battle. To be honest, Shiva was disappointed – both in Cailan's decision to post her and Alistair away from the fighting as well as his own position in the battle. Cailan refused to take a more tactical position and chose to stand on the front lines with the Wardens. If he should fall, she didn't know what that would mean for Ferelden, especially during this time. There were no signs of an Archdemon, as Duncan said, though he reminded them to be aware in case it did show up. If it didn't, this couldn't exactly be the last battle with the darkspawn, as the king seemed sure it would be.

It was time for Duncan to lead the Wardens into battle beside the king and for Shiva and Alistair to go to the Tower of Ishal.

"Duncan… May the Maker watch over you." From the way his voice hushed, it seemed Alistair was not feeling too optimistic either.

"May He watch over us all," were Duncan's solemn parting words.


	7. She-devil

Borrowed Time, Ch 7 – She-devil

* * *

The battle had been disastrous, that much Shiva could recall.

Once Alistair and Shiva crossed the bridge, a mage and a warrior informed the two Wardens that darkspawn had overrun the Tower of Ishal. The four went inside to fight their way through and it seemed they would never reach the beacon. They fought and fought, breaking through each new wave of enemies only to be stopped by another. Four floors of fighting, the only aid they received was on one of the upper floors when they released the caged Mabari hounds. When they did reach the top of the tower, an ogre was waiting for them. Their relief about reaching the beacon was quickly extinguished. The mage that was with them lit the beacon with a fireball before being snatched up by the ogre and ripped in two. Shiva couldn't remember anything after that. She assumed the ogre was dealt with since she was alive and didn't feel darkspawn anywhere near her.

She opened her eyes and was staring at a ceiling. She could hear the fire somewhere in the room and hoped it was in its pit, for she didn't feel any sort of desire to sit up and have to move away from here to safety, wherever here was. Thankfully, she was warm, though the bed she lay in was uncomfortable.

"Ah, your eyes finally opened. Mother will be pleased." Shiva heard light footsteps near the bed she was in. She slowly turned toward a familiar voice.

"Morrigan."

"Tis I." The witch stood above her, looking down without concern. She wore the same rags as before, draped over her breasts, revealing nearly as much as it covered.

"What happened?" She was ready for bad news. This clearly wasn't the tower, meaning she must have been taken far away to have any chance of survival.

"The man who was to respond to your signal quit the field. The darkspawn won your battle." The news was delivered without emotion, just the way Shiva preferred it. Anytime there was a shitty report from anyone other than her first mate – who would respond as Morrigan did – they would hesitate and stutter, prolonging the delivery of the news and only agitating her.

"Any news of survivors? Are the king and warden commander well?"

"All dead. 'Twas a gruesome scene. Darkspawn were bent over corpses, I assume they were eating them. Others were being dragged underground. Beyond that, I cannot say." Shiva accepted the news with as little feeling as Morrigan had on the matter. The grief would come later, she knew.

"And what of Alistair? One of the men I was with when we met?" She was most concerned for him, though she didn't know why. Perhaps it was due to the fact that he was clearly new to being a Grey Warden as well as she, though he had about six months more experience. She could hardly realize what it meant that Cailan and Duncan were dead with her head still spinning.

"The suspicious dimwitted one? He is outside with mother."

"Then I will go to them." Shiva sat up, not seeing any raw wounds on her body that would explain the pain she felt. She saw her armor next to the bed and put it on. Morrigan returned to the pot over the fire and either cooked a soup or brewed some magical concoction.

While Shiva dressed, she took in her surroundings. They were in a small cabin. The walls were bare except for some shelves with potions on them. There were two chests in the room - one at the foot of the bed and the other beside the fire. There was a divider next to the bed so Shiva couldn't see what was on the other side, but she doubted it was anything of interest.

She stepped outside and recognized this part of the wilds. It was where their treaties were returned to them. Morrigan's mother was the first to see Shiva emerge from their hut. She wasn't surprised to see Shiva alive, no doubt being the one to tend to her wounds since Morrigan seemed like she would prefer primal magic and similar darker spells.

Alistair turned to her. He looked like a complete mess. His hair was more mussed than usual and he was pale. His expression was wearied and sad. "You're alive!" Shiva nodded, still without energy. She wanted to hug him but stood at a distance instead. He looked like he would collapse onto her and break completely. "This doesn't seem real. Duncan's dead. The other wardens, Leske, the king, they're all... Dead. If it weren't for Morrigan's mother, we'd be dead on top of that tower as well."

Morrigan's mother indignantly interjected about being referred to in this way. She chose this as the opportune time to introduce herself as Flemeth.

Shiva had heard about Flemeth. Her legends sounded ridiculous. She heard most of the story – it was all about some love triangle. Shiva preferred to believe she was just a strong woman with a thirst for the power that could only be achieved in several lifetimes and happened to be a skilled and wise enough mage to get farther than anyone believed possible. The most popular theory was that she was an abomination. Seeing her revealed she was no abomination, that was clear.

It did explain how she was able to get them out of there. Flemeth told them she had turned into a large bird and carried them away from the battle. Shiva didn't know why she chose them, other than easy access due to their high position. Alistair was the one to voice his surprise that they were the ones she chose to save. She explained that they were needed to do their duty and stop the Blight. That if all the wardens were killed in that battle, Ferelden was as good as lost.

"No rest for the wicked. What a surprise." Shiva had overcome her hazy, unfeeling state and was becoming irritable. Flemeth sensed this and was amused.

"Is that news to you, child?" Flemeth seemed to expect whining from Shiva, but didn't get any. Just like always, Shiva was ready for action.

"Not in the least. But what exactly should we do now? Surely not all of Ferelden's forces were spent on that spectacular failure. What other armies could we call on that have not been torn apart or aren't currently running with their tails between their legs like Loghain's? Duncan mentioned some Arl that was related to Cailan when we entered Ostagar, who could that have been?"

"Arl Eamon!" Alistair jumped in, relieved when it seemed not all was lost. "I know him, he's a good man and was King Cailan's uncle. Of course! He has knights and an army that can still be called upon!" His eyes were wide, showing only how red they were. He could barely focus his sight for long, his eyes seemed to shift and follow something unseen to the rest of them before snapping back to Shiva. She was growing concerned for him but would see to his health later.

"Who else? One army won't do it."

"Grey Wardens can call upon dwarves, the Dalish, the Circle of Magi!" Alistair was nearly breathless with the realization that they weren't completely alone.

_Poor sod probably hasn't rested since the battle. He's nearly hysterical. _

"Perhaps with the recent defeat, these groups will stop underestimating the horde of darkspawn. I believe Duncan tried these groups with little to nothing received. I also think a 'we told you so' is in order." Shiva regained her defiant spark. Flemeth fully approved, if her guffaw was any indication.

"It seems you are set then. There is one last thing before you go."

Morrigan stepped up at the quick break in conversation between the three of them. Turning to her mother, she said the stew was ready and asked if the wardens would stay as guests.

"They are leaving shortly, dear. And you are going with them." Flemeth replied evenly.

"Such a shame." It took a few seconds for Morrigan to realize her mothers order. She had been too occupied silently rejoicing that her guests would be departing.

_Joke's on you, she-devil. _

Shiva made no argument. She liked Morrigan. Besides, she and Alistair were in Flemeth's debt. If taking her daughter along for the ride was her request, so be it. It would increase their chances of success since Morrigan was a mage with considerable survival skills. Alistair, on the other hand, was not so quick to accept her.

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth but won't this add to our problems? Outside the wilds, she's an apostate."

Flemeth quickly shut him down, Shiva decided to speak up before one of the witches froze Alistair's balls. "I would welcome her among us." She turned to Morrigan, addressing her directly out of respect. "Your magic would be useful and if you remain here the darkspawn would be breathing down your neck anyway. Why not accompany us?"

Morrigan wasn't pleased, but agreed. "Allow me to get my things, if you please."

While Morrigan was inside, Flemeth took Shiva aside to speak to her alone. She seemed to believe Shiva was more experienced, not Alistair, despite him being the senior Grey Warden. Flemeth had recognized Shiva as a strong woman, and she was immensely flattered. With what was probably just keen perception, but Flemeth clearly tried to play off as undeniable psychic abilities, she offered bits of fortune.

"You are the one to lead Ferelden to victory against the darkspawn. Not that boy. He will be a leader in time, assuming he survives." She told Shiva.

"I don't mind leading if I must, which it seems I do." Shiva wasn't sure where Flemeth was going or whether or not she had anything useful to say. She accepted her vote as leader, though she assumed it was more a feminist move than anything else. "Thank you for everything."

"No, no. Thank you, Warden." Her voice was practically strained from being so coherent instead of a rambling crone. It was hard to tell since she had the voice to give away her age, if she really was hundreds of years old. As far as her looks, she seemed to be in her eighties. With Morrigan looking no older than mid-twenties, how could she have given birth to her? If she didn't steal Morrigan as a baby, that is.

Morrigan emerged from the hut and said goodbye to Flemeth. They departed, heading north along the Imperial Highway to a small village called Lothering.

* * *

Shiva led them as Flemeth said she should; neither party member protested. She quickly became aware that Alistair and Morrigan did not get along. In fact, that was most likely the understatement of the age. They constantly bickered. Morrigan, of course, won most of the arguments by insulting Alistair into silence. Sometimes Shiva would give him a pat on the back before he sulked himself into the very ground. She noticed he was still disquiet about the battle at Ostagar. He had spent their first night traveling with is face buried in his hands, staring into the fire or absently rubbing his neck. She made a mental note to speak to him about it at some point.

When they were about halfway to Lothering, they found themselves near a large plot of land, which was presumably someone's farm. There were bushes up ahead that blocked the curve of the road. From behind it, they heard rapid panting and rustling. Shiva sensed taint coming from further down the road and Alistair seemed to sense it too. A Mabari emerged from behind the bushes, running towards them with its long tongue lolling out. It stopped several yards away from them and started barking. It spun and trotted a few steps forward, indicating something further down the road. Several darkspawn came from where the dog was pointing. The hound bristled and growled as Alistair, Shiva and Morrigan drew their weapons. Morrigan started shooting icicles at the darkspawn as the others – including the hound – charged into battle. They were four on four, the darkspawn were outmatched since the witch had already dealt with one by the time there were clashing of swords.

After the battle, the hound bounded up to Shiva and sat down, wagging its stumpy tail. "Loki!"

"He's yours?" Alistair wiped blood off his blade as he watched the dog.

Shiva approached her furry friend. The Mabari happily barked at her and panted harder. Looking around, Shiva laughed. She quickly resorted to that baby talk that she couldn't help but do with her pets. Considering how needy dogs were, they didn't seem to mind. "You mischievous mutt, you led those darkspawn right into an ambush, didn't you?" Shiva was scratching the hound behind the ears, earning the most blissful expression a dog could make. He barked more after being praised and licked her free hand.

"Does this mean we're going to have this mangy beast follow us about now?" Morrigan was wrinkling her nose at said beast. Considering she had lived in the wilds, she should have been more used to animals. At the very least, one would think she preferred them to the company of other people.

"Come now, you speak as if he's anywhere near as bad as Alistair." Both girls laughed. If Shiva knew anything about making friends with a strong woman, it was that the best way to do so was insult anyone who didn't meet her approval. She would console Alistair later. He would learn there was no malice in it when Shiva said something against him, at least.

"He-ey! I'm not mangy!" Apparently he didn't know it at this point, however. Morrigan was convinced, Alistair had a traveling companion that wouldn't make fun of him as the girls did, and Shiva had another follower. Everyone wins.

* * *

Outside Lothering, they were intercepted by some bandits, who tried their completely transparent 'highway toll' scheme. They stood by two overturned carts, likely from helpless villagers that couldn't defend themselves against these fools. They couldn't be avoided since the road was a stone walkway raised higher than safe jumping distance above the ground. There were rocks and other debris along the outside of the road below them so there was a small chance of a safe landing.

Shiva was embarrassed for those pathetic excuses for bandits and exploited the weak link in this chain – the painfully dumb one. Not only did she talk her way out of paying, she received a 'donation' of thirty silvers for the Grey Wardens. Deciding it was a rather small donation, once she passed their overturned cart, she rummaged through one of their crates. One of the bandits saw her and attacked. They were as poor fighters as they were schemers so they quickly lost. The leader with the high voice and the eyebrows of doom was soon pleading for his life.

"Wait, wait, don't kill me! I-I'm sorry!" Shiva shook her head out of pity. With her dagger by his throat, she ordered him to hand over everything else, which amounted to over 100 silvers. Deciding to end her own robbery on a dramatic note, she slit his throat and kicked the last remaining bandit over the edge of the road, much as she would do on her ship. The fall broke his neck.

Shiva walked to Lothering's entrance, thinking about something the bandit leader had said. From him, she learned that the Grey Wardens were labeled traitors and were being held responsible for murdering the king. This could potentially hinder their efforts to raise an army. It didn't help that she was still freshly plucked off from the gallows for murder, among many other crimes.

Lothering was doomed. Its shacks looked as if they would fall apart from the tension that hung thick in the air. The villagers were hunched over in defeat; all one could hear was crying and complaining from every side. Shiva had seen beggars with more dignity than these folk. None seemed armed, but all were fully aware of the approaching darkspawn. They were all but motionless in fear. They may as well have been. Everyone there busied themselves with pointless tasks that would be undone when the invasion came. Some men were going around the houses nailing wood to the windows, as if it would keep them safe within the buildings. All of these houses would go up in flames in an instant, and the walls could be broken through so easily barring the doors and windows was a waste of energy. There was an old, sick woman taking care of other ill men, women and children. All she did since she had run out of herbs was spread her own sickness.

They passed by a merchant arguing with a priestess. Shiva caught his eye and he called out to her. "Care to make a tiny profit driving this rabble off? I'll give you a hundred silvers." Before Shiva could agree to help him, the priestess cut in.

"He is charging ridiculous amounts for what he bought from them last week!" Shiva didn't listen to more of what she had to say, though there was plenty. When the mousy priestess took a breath, Shiva settled the matter.

"A greedy merchant is better than having none at all. Aren't you supposed to be counting your blessings and whatnot? Leave the complaining to small children who don't know better. I am here to do business and your prattle is slowing me down." The merchant sneered at the priestess, who took the hint and left them, muttering something about how cruel they were. They bought from the merchant, but they purchased less than 100 silvers so they received 30 silvers from him with what little he had that they found useful.

Inside the chantry, Alistair walked away to greet someone he recognized. While the others waited, Shiva searched the lost and found box and found an amulet. It had the chantry's symbol and was probably worth a few coins so she took it.

"I did not believe you were the religious type," Morrigan commented with barely masked disapproval.

"I'm not. This is a silver necklace with religious design so I may be able to find a glassy eyed merchant to overcharge for this." Morrigan quickly changed her attitude while Shiva put the necklace in her pocket. Alistair returned to them with a long face.

"That was one of Arl Eamon's knights. He says the Arl is sick and has been bedridden. They are seeking the Urn of Sacred Ashes to try to cure him." The Urn of Sacred Ashes, of all the ridiculous myths they had to go after that one. Shiva had heard little of it and wasn't aware Ferelden was a likely place to find it, if it even existed.

"We'll just have to settle for speaking to whoever is in charge when we reach Redcliff." She was eager to leave the chantry, as was Morrigan.

"Where to now?" Alistair asked when they were outside. He reclaimed some of the gloom since hearing about the Arl.

"The tavern!" Shiva headed across the bridge to the larger building to the right.

The tavern was disappointing. It was crowded but dry. Shipments of drinks had stopped coming nearly a week before. Most of the people crammed in here were desperately trying to shut out the reality of what was coming for them. There was a merchant inside that didn't have anything useful. While they were listening to his sales pitch, a few guards came between them and the merchant, trying to drive them toward the door. One of the guards recognized them as the ones they had been asking about all morning. They learned that Loghain had put a bounty on the heads of any surviving Grey Wardens.

_What a shame. He seemed reasonable at Ostagar. _

Shiva was surprised Loghain blamed them, though she probably shouldn't be if their habit of recruiting murderers and other types of criminals was well known. Perhaps he took the delay in lighting the beacon as desertion on their part. She didn't see when he retreated so who knew. What she did know, however, was that his men wanted a fight. A red haired woman dressed in chantry robes and armed with a dagger approached them with her peace talk.

"There is no need for trouble. I'm sure these people are just more weary travelers." She sounded foreign. Orlesian, specifically, and she spoke with a lisp.

"Don't rob me of a good fight, priestess. If violence puts you off, then run along." Shiva wasn't about to let her spoil her fun. The soldiers were quick to draw their weapons, as were her party members and herself. Oddly enough, during the battle, Shiva noticed the priestess was fighting too. At least that way the guards were outnumbered. Loghain's commander surrendered by dropping his weapon.

"Good. They've learned their lesson and we can all stop fighting now."

The priestess could stop whenever she wanted, Shiva intended to kill him. As she raised her sword to behead the man before her, the priestess stood between them. "No! They have surrendered. There is no need to kill them! They have already failed." Shiva lowered her weapon, considering. The only thing the commander had going for him at this point were his looks. He was scruffy, like Daveth was, and dark enough to suggest his Rivaini descent.

"Fine." She shoved the priestess out of her way and approaches him with her most sultry walk. She felt more like an oily rat than a sexy woman, but she knew this sort of thing got results. Sure enough, the commander looked her up and down, swallowing as he met her eyes. Shiva pulled him close by tugging at the collar of his armor. "Send Loghain a message. Tell him he'll have to do better than this. The Grey Wardens are coming, and we will expose his cowardice at Ostagar, and his betrayal." The commander left with his two remaining, and heavily injured, guards.

Much to Shiva's annoyance, the priestess approached them once again. "I apologize for interrupting, but I couldn't just sit by and not help."

"So I see. Aren't priestesses supposed to avoid confrontations once blades have been drawn? I certainly haven't seen one join the battle before." Shiva smirked. The priestess was very different from most she had seen. While they downplayed their looks, achieving a most homely appearance, this one was wearing makeup and a much tighter robe than was necessary. She didn't seem as though she could ever be as plain as the others, for she was beautiful. She had light blue eyes and full, pouting lips. She already seemed like a complete hypocrite.

"I am no priestess," she clarified. "I am a lay sister. I was not always one, though. My skill in battle is from before I joined the chantry. But allow me to introduce myself. I am Leliana."

Shiva snorted. Priestess. Lay sister. She was still wearing the robes so she would still have no use for her. "Well, Leliana. It was a pleasure to meet you. If you'll excuse us…" They started heading toward the door until Leliana was by Shiva's side.

"Where are we going?"

"We?" Shiva turned to Leliana, eyebrow raised.

_Who does this strumpet think she is? And why the bloody hell does she think she wants to come with us?_

Shiva chuckled. "The only we around here is the _we_-" she gestured to Alistair, Morrigan and Loki, "that doesn't involve _you_. Don't bother following us around. We've all heard the chant of light and frankly, its repetitive and annoying."

"You are Grey Wardens though, correct? I know you will need all the help you can get. I am coming."

Alistair was the only one so far willing to give her a chance. "She has a point. And she has already proven she can fight. Why not let her come along? We brought Morrigan, after all."

Morrigan snorted. From the look she was giving Alistair, she was on the verge of shoving her staff where the sun's light couldn't reach. Shiva turned back to Leliana. "What makes you think you'd even want to come with us?"

"The Maker told me to." Leliana acted as though this was a completely reasonable excuse. Shiva had grown tired of people interpreting their own wishes as the Maker's will long ago.

"Well the Maker just spoke to me and He said you're full of shit."

"No! I… I know how it sounds, but it's true. I had a dream, a vision!"

Shiva had enough, she figured Leliana most likely would make it an hour beyond the village and return to the chantry, or die. "If you want to chase us around, fine. You better be able to carry your own weight."

Morrigan instantly protested. "You're actually letting her come? Perhaps you hit your head harder than mother thought."

"Apparently I did," she spoke to the witch, loud enough for Leliana to hear. "I'm done trying to pry her off of my leg. We've wasted enough time here as it is."

On their way out of the village into the field, Shiva heard foreign words being uttered. She turned, seeing a male qunari imprisoned in a cage. It was hard to tell if he was in bad shape or not, they were not exactly an aesthetic race. She had never seen one not wearing armor, so this one being in village clothes gave her a better idea of their dominating physique. Shiva approached him, the others just noticing she had fallen behind.

"Qunari." She addressed him. He was well over a head taller so he lowered his head an extreme angle to look her in the eye. "Why are you imprisoned?"

Leliana approached them from behind. "The Revered Mother placed him here for murdering an entire family. Children too."

The qunari spoke for himself. "It is as she says. Now, leave me to die here. It won't be much longer."

"Certainly not, since the darkspawn will be upon this village in the next few days. I suppose they will simply leave you here to rot."

"Most likely." The qunari didn't seem disturbed by this.

She wondered how it would be to be accompanied by him. It's not like he had anything better to do. Even if he did, she knew from personal experience that people's plans are pretty flexible when they know they're about to die. Besides, it worked well for Duncan.

"I find myself in need of skilled help. This man and I-" turning to Alistair, who had an uneasy look on his face. "-Are Grey Wardens. You may come with us, if you wish."

"Perhaps, if the Revered Mother was willing-"

"I don't care what the Revered Mother has to say about it. I'm asking you." She was struck by how she fell into something of a Warden-Commander's role already, and by the memory of her own execution, when Duncan was addressing her just as she did the qunari. Her first wave of grief for Duncan hit her then, but she fought past it and hoped she could keep her sorrow at bay until they reached camp.

"If you free me, I will follow you into battle against the darkspawn."

Shiva didn't wait any longer. She stepped forward and took the small leather pouch that had her skeleton key and lockpicks from her belt.

It didn't take long for her to unlock the cage, distracted as she was by Leliana and Alistair protesting behind her. The door of the cage swung open, and she stepped to the side to allow the Qunari to pass her.

"So be it." He emerged from the cage and stood straighter, though it was certainly tall enough for him to stand at his full height. She remembered what it was like having the noose removed from her neck. She had felt much lighter then. "I am Sten of the Beresaad. If you have no further business, I am eager to leave this place."

"No doubt. And I am the Grey Warden Shiva. Pleased to meet you." It was obvious he didn't expect politeness from her, or any human. He gave her an assessing look, wondering if she was mocking him.

On the way out, a small group of darkspawn was approaching two dwarves calling for help. Her group swiftly dealt with them, rescuing the dwarven merchant and his son. After being thanked, Shiva and her companions turned toward the road to the Bannorn.


	8. New Nightmare

Borrowed Time, Ch 8 – New Nightmare

* * *

Alistair watched Shiva as she lay on the opposite side of the fire, twitching and grinding her teeth. He winced every now and then as he listened, not envying the soreness she would wake up to.

He probably looked about the same when he was having one of his nightmares. The way he felt when he woke was unbelievable. No one should have to feel like that after sleeping. Being awake as he was, he tried to ignore the horror he knew Shiva was experiencing just a few feet away. The grass he was sitting on was still cool, though the fire had warmed his body. Shifting so his ass didn't hurt so much from the hard ground, he told himself he shouldn't wake her. That if he tried to save her from every nightmare she would have as a warden, she would never get any sleep. All he could do for her then was pray that she would wake on her own soon, then return to a more peaceful slumber.

* * *

Shiva was tired of running. She was never a good runner. Her stamina was low and she wasn't very fast. Even if she was a little faster, with her short stature each stride would cover little ground. In the dark stone corridors she ran through, she felt she might as well have been trying to run underwater. The lanterns above her made her hot. The heat was a tangible force keeping her back, slowed down to near stillness for whatever was behind her. Normally she would love being surrounded by stone – a foundation that was strong and would never break around her, would never leave her vulnerable for the world to see the weakness she tried to outgrow.

Stilled she did, but not for long since a thick black liquid began seeping out of the cracks in the floor and, like tentacles, reached for her feet that were so, _so tired_ of running. She leapt forward before the vile liquid could touch her, but instead of sprinting up the stairs before her, she staggered. The panic that seized her was similar to what she would experience when she was young, far too young for the type of anxiety that her mother didn't experience until she reached her twenties.

At the top of the stairs, she reached a wooden door. The handle was as hot as a firebrand, the brands on her back stung from memories she needed to leave in their place in the back of her mind. The handle melted her glove and burned the skin of her palm. It didn't matter. It didn't matter that she had to tear the scorched flesh and leave some behind on the handle because she needed to move.

A roof? Yes, she was on a roof now. The sky was a shade of purple that should have been beautiful, but like everything else around her, was only oppressive. She heard noises behind her, like a thousand armored men running in her direction. The door she just came through smashed and the noise stopped. It had been darkspawn running after her. They stood at the top of the stairs, in three rows that stood shoulder to shoulder as far down the corridor as she could see. There was no way to defeat them. She'd normally be able to cut down dozens, but in this state she'd be lucky to slay five or six. A distant song was playing, from where she couldn't say. She wanted to follow it, but as she looked around she realized walking in any direction would send her over the edge. The song rose in pitch until it was a shrill cry, like a dragon's shout. It came nearer, became louder until her ears nearly bled. She covered her ears but was knocked down by something that made the entire rooftop shake. She caught herself with her hands, the burned skin still stinging.

"Warden." She was called by a slow, seething voice that was in no way human. She turned and was face to face with the Archdemon. There was no way it could see her because its snout was so close to her and its eyes so far back and apart. Her body was burning all over from sensing so much taint at once. She knew the Archdemon could feel her too, probably no more than a tickle. Its breathing made her sway, each gust was so strong. Its fangs protruded from its curled back lips, the length of each was about equal with her height.

She drew her sword. It looked so pathetic, no longer than its smallest incisor. She couldn't keep the tears back. She was about to fail Duncan. Alistair was, if he wasn't already dead, about to feel the same despair she did and she could do nothing to help him. Not him, herself, or anyone else. But she took a deep breath, opened her eyes and raised her sword. It glinted from the lit beacon overhead. She stepped back before the Archdemon let out another harsh cry that sent more of the black liquid from the back of its throat.

Shiva was covered in it. It hardened instantly, gluing her hand to her sword and making her armor stiff.

"Surrender, Warden." The same voice again. Just as chilling as the first time it spoke.

_Never. Never surrender. You'll have to kill me. _

Her whole body shook. The tremors traveled to the rooftop and increased in strength until the stone cracked and broke. The roof was falling apart from the edges inward. She wasn't ready to fall, but who ever was?

No fall. But she knew she was lying on her back. There was a rustling noise when she turned her head. Must be grass. Shiva took a look around and saw Leliana to her right, curled in the fetal position, sleeping soundly.

"You're finally awake. You sounded like you were having one major nightmare." She sat up and saw Alistair sitting by the fire. The worry in his eyes was evident. She was so relieved to see him. To feel a comfortable amount of warmth again. The lung full of air she gulped was much needed and felt as good as drinking a clean glass of water.

"I've had the same few recurring nightmares the past several years," she admitted, trying to keep those out of her mind. "Having something new to fear is almost… refreshing." Okay, so the last part was a complete lie. There was nothing refreshing about realizing a new fear. Knowing there was something else she could, and probably would, fail at.

"Maker's breath, what could be worse than that?"

Shiva shook her head, deciding not to speak more of nightmares. She stood, stretched and moved closer to him. "I've been meaning to talk to you for a few days now. About Ostagar."

Alistair sighed. Shiva wondered how much sleep he had gotten. He didn't look so bad, just depressed. "I don't know where to begin. I still can't believe Duncan... Duncan's." He shut his eyes tight trying to keep the tears back. There was so much raw emotion in his voice, she wanted to tell him to let it out, but Sten was near and still awake. Thankfully Morrigan was as far away from the small group as she could be – now wasn't the time to mock him. She settled for putting her hand on his back.

"I know. There was so much to learn from him, and about him. He said he had been the Warden-Commander for 20 years. To meet such a sudden, unexpected end." Shiva stared into the fire as Alistair subtly tried to wipe the tears that escaped. "Listen to us, shocked about what could happen in any battle. We should know better." Her dark humor had risen. She barely felt like herself.

"You're right. I should be handling it better at least. He told me he started having the nightmares again. We knew it wouldn't be long before he went to Orzammar."

"What are you talking about?"

Alistair was confused a moment before realizing Shiva barely knew the first thing about the price they paid for being a warden. He explained how the nightmares would return, or worsen, when the warden's body was finally weakening from the taint. The tradition was to go to Orzammar and die in the Deep Roads, in one last glorious battle with no hope of survival. This happens around the 30th year after a warden is tainted. Duncan had passed this age.

"Now you know why the wardens are so secretive. No one would join if they knew."

"I would have. That's 30 years longer than I would have had. There are some who are willing. If more people knew, then we wouldn't have people like Ser Jory walking into a situation they would never return from. He spoke of a wife and child. They would still have their father if it weren't for the secrecy. I can't help but disagree."

"After all I just told you, you still don't understand?"

"I understand. I just don't agree. Not that it matters. These secrets have been kept for centuries. It is not my place to reveal them. We keep it between us." Her hand slid around his shoulder, while her other squeezed his arm to comfort him. He seemed to appreciate the gesture. He gave her a weak smile. They sat in silence for a few moments, her arms still around Alistair, before he cleared his throat.

"It's nearly dawn, we should probably get moving."

* * *

When they left their camp, Alistair and Shiva led the group. They spoke about how they met Duncan. Both were able to speak about him a little easier now. Both were more grateful for each other's company than they'd admit. They were soon joking again. Alistair was surprised to learn of Shiva's past, and when Shiva learned of Alistair's, she understood him much better than before.

She had feelings for him, she couldn't deny that. He was caring, handsome, and a capable warrior. She had a feeling he wasn't right for her though, not in a romantic way. She was so dark and damaged. He deserved a pure maiden that fit the fantasy that practically defined a man like him. All he needed was shinier armor.

Shiva smiled and shook her head at some cheesy joke he recited that she only half listened to. Hopefully his awkward, corny charm would help them once they reached Redcliff.


	9. Where's Carl?

Borrowed Time, Ch 9 – Where's Carl?

AN: Can you guys tell I love The Walking Dead? This has my cheesy horror stuff in it. It was delightfully fun to write.

* * *

It was past midnight in Redcliff when the undead, rotting corpses shuffled around the streets, searching for live bodies to tear apart. The corpses could hear whimpering within most of the walls, but with their still mostly inactive brains they didn't know how to get inside. They would stare at a wall, search for an opening, then move on for something easier to catch.

One large body, once the blacksmith, stumbled on the stairs and collided with the door. It heard a scream from a woman that had been listening closely on the other side. Rising and using its bulk as a battering ram, it smashed through the door. It now stood in the den, surrounded by a family of three – a mother, daughter, and young lad.

The mother turned and shouted to her children, "Kaitlyn, Bevin! Run!"

Once her children fled, she grabbed a knife from her kitchen, holding it against her chest with the blade facing the corpse in her home. She clearly had never wielded a weapon, she held it so close to her own body in panic she would sooner send the blade up into her own chin than into the body of the monster looming over her. She slashed at it anyway, making a large cut on its chest over its stilled heart.

This only angered the monster though. It didn't acknowledge pain as much as it recognized a potential threat. A large hand wrapped around the mother's throat and squeezed, crushing her windpipe. She dropped her knife and had it not fallen and bounced away, she would have fallen on it, for she was close behind. The undead blacksmith dragged her away, ignoring the crying of her children in the upstairs bedroom.

Several villagers were dragged to the center of the chantry's courtyard and disemboweled. Each that died on this night, as with the previous, would return tomorrow and claim their own former loved ones. The number of safe citizens in the chantry dwindled each day, and Bann Teagan stood inside the chantry, between them and the heavily barricaded doors. His hand was on the hilt of his sword and he was prepared for the worst. He listened to the screams that nearly broke his heart while his brother was in the castle near death. For the hundredth time, his lips moved in a silent prayer to the Maker, begging Him for a savior.

* * *

Loki bounded around Sten's feet, much to the qunari's annoyance. "Barshera! This troublesome hound needs to be disciplined!" He glared and the irritating animal as it grinned and ran to and fro. Leliana was just as cheerful as Loki, and reprimanded Sten for being in such a foul mood.

"Sten, he is just being a dog! No one would mind it if you were as joyful as he is being, especially on a day with such nice weather!" Sten growled in response to Leliana, and sunk to his knees to growl at the dog when it passed him again. Loki skidded to a halt in front of his aggressor and growled in return.

Leliana giggled as she watched them, then continued torturing Morrigan. "As I was saying, when we go shopping you won't have to worry about a thing. I will pick out the best dresses that suit you. Oh, if we could find a purple or dark red dress, I think that would be perfect. It would have to be fitted above the hip, of course. You have a very nice, shapely body and breasts. Oh, and shoes! If there are any like it in Ferelden, we should get you shoes with raised heels an black lace embroidery. And-"

"Enough!" Morrigan's hands were raised as if she was trying to ward of the headache she got from Leliana's fashion talk, caught between covering her ears and slapping Leliana in the face. "I have absolutely no desire to go shopping with you. And stop paying such attention to my body. Tis most disturbing!"

Behind them, Alistair was grinning about Morrigan being so thoroughly irritated. His glee died down when Shiva continued insulting his favorite snack.

"Ugh, that Maker forsaken blob of fuzz that stinks to high heavens? You put it in your mouth? I have a better idea. We should start chucking it at the darkspawn. They'll run straight back to the Deep Roads and run themselves in deepstalker shit just to forget that awful smell!"

"No! We are not throwing cheese at darkspawn! That's a waste of delicious-"

"Disgusting!" She emphasized her description by wrinkling her nose.

"No cheese throwing!" Alistair became the picture of a scolding mother – splintmail, sword, shield and muscles aside. He had one hand curled into a fist and was waggling a finger from the other hand at Shiva.

"Fine, how about you eat it and we'll just use your breath against them. Just know no one will ever kiss you after that. Unless you find an Orlesian lass. Hey, we'll ask Leliana!"

"No, we're not talking about kissing. We're talking about food." Food was a comforting, neutral, not embarrassing conversation. Alistair had yet to go a week without blushing.

"Fine, but let's find something we both think is delicious. How about bread? Oh Maker, I love bread!"

"Bread is only one of the most amazing things! You know why? It goes good with cheese!"

"Oh, Aliiis!"

"Alice? That's a girl's name! Anyway, what could be better than cheese? I bet you can't come up with three things!"

"Besides bread, ale, and sex? Oh Alistair, please tell me you like sex more than cheese." She was truly worried how he would respond at this point.

Alistair's eyes widened. He turned his head away hiding his growing blush. "Well, I might, probably… If, you know."

It was Shiva's turn to be surprised. "Alistair! Have you never-"

"Silence, woman! We are not talking about this." He moved away from her, putting Loki between them as if the dog was a wall.

"You won't get off that easy!" Shiva was giggling at his embarrassment. "Actually, if you are what I think you are, you probably would get off easily the first few times. After that you would hopefully build up some stamina." Alistair kept moving away until he was on the other side of Leliana and Morrigan. He was practically horrified by then. "Oh, come back. I'll be nice and drop it for now." He didn't believe her but moved back anyway, deciding he'd rather deal with Shiva and her dirty talk over Morrigan any day. Shiva decided she really was going to be nice and went back to a neutral topic. "The way we talk about food though I'm surprised we're not a couple of fatties rolling down the road."

Alistair kicked a rock that was in his way, making it tumble past Loki, who chased and bit at it. "It's because of all this walking! We're working off fat we haven't even gained yet."

A merchant on the road caused them to stop. He introduces himself as Felix. Shiva couldn't quite catch his last name wit the overly bouncy way he said it. It sounded pretty much like "Felix de gross-bwah!" Shiva shrugged after her third failed mental pronunciation attempt. She didn't intend to listen to whatever he was selling, but then he said the word "golem."

_A golem? Wow, talk about your pet rock! __It's not like it has to be fed or taken in the yard to shit or anything. Sten would be out-muscled by their new companion, it wouldn't whine like Alistair, bitch like Morrigan, bark like Loki._

Other than that, she sure didn't know what they would use it for. But since it was free, why not? They accepted the control rod and went down the road where Felix said the village was. It would be farther south than they were heading, since Redcliff was now due west, but Redcliff would have to wait. They had a golem to claim.

Of course there was a catch. Why wouldn't there be a catch? The whole damn village was overrun by darkspawn. Shiva felt it the same time she heard screaming. A handful of villagers stumbled past them with darkspawn running close behind. The darkspawn stopped, recognizing that Shiva and the companions she had with her – Sten, Leliana, and Morrigan – were far more threatening than the terrified citizens they had been chasing before. The darkspawn hesitated no longer than a few seconds, however. They charged forward with more determination.

Shiva withdrew her sword from a darkspawn's head. Sten was standing near her with blood welling up through his heavy chainmail. "Are you all right?" He didn't show any pain, she didn't expect him to. But he was considerably more agitated now that he had been wounded. He had been cut when he had to dodge one of Morrigan's ice spikes that had been shot too close behind him. Dodging her magic caused him to be open to the darkspawn's swing, which connected.

"There is no need for concern," he grunted. It was one of the milder responses she had received from him. He didn't dislike her outright, but he had reservations about her leadership – ones he had yet to voice. But it was evident his anger wasn't directed at her. Especially when he turned to glare at Morrigan, blaming her for his pain.

Shiva realized she had underestimated the witch's bravery when Morrigan addressed him. "Do you find me interesting, Qunari? You are staring at me as if I were covered in jewels." She was a seductive woman to begin with, but when she purred the word 'interesting,' Shiva wondered if even Sten could ignore the temptation. He seemed as though he did, considering his retort.

"It would be something. You should watch your spells, mage. Qunari know how to keep you animals contained. I have shown restraint thus far considering the way humans let you all run free, spreading your chaos like a disease." Sten was definitely not tempted.

Shiva left them to their bickering. The spikes of taint she felt were growing stronger. She walked forward with Leliana by her side. When they rounded a curve, they could see most of the village. Before the darkspawn came, it must have been picturesque. The grass was a lush green, the paths were neat and languidly curved. Following the path left, there was a fence surrounding an island of grass. A golem stood in the center, arms raised as if in fury. After killing several more darkspawn, with the help of Sten and Morrigan, who had settled their dispute for now, Shiva approached the golem. It didn't activate. She tried using the phrase and waving the control rod twice. Nothing happened.

They entered the door to what looked like a basement. Upon entering, they found stairs leading to a large library. Some shelves were overturned and the books had fallen into a heap on the floor. Most of the corners had thick cobwebs from years of abandonment. In one alcove, there was a barrel of mead next to four stacked journals. Leliana, Sten, and Morrigan were each going through different parts of the room, so Shiva was free to fill her flask, which had been empty since Lothering. She flipped open the top journal while sipping at the flask. The journals were from over 30 years before. The one who wrote them, a mage named Wilhelm, was traveling with an army. He complained through most of the pages Shiva flipped through, but one page was different. The writing was more sprawled, as if it was written in a hurry or some other time of extreme excitement. The first words of the page caught her eye.

_Prince Maric is alive! _

Shiva's eyebrows shot up and she started reading the journal's contents more diligently.

_It's really him! I cast a spell on him to make sure. _

_We had all lost hope. Oh, had he been slain by those Orlesian lickspittles, like his dear mother, Queen Moira – Maker rest her soul – Ferelden would have no one to replace that loathsome Orlesian pig in Denerim. But here he was! Passed by my tent not an hour ago! With Lady Rowan and some commoner at Prince Maric's heel. _

Shiva didn't realize she had been holding her breath. She would often dream of coming across something so important – treasure maps were one thing, they led to gold and gold would be too quickly spent – but this was a fascinating piece of the war with Orlais. She hadn't read any personal accounts from that time, just stuffy books that had been fabricated with glorious this and that. Here was truth. It was worth so much more.

Her history lusting daze was interrupted when she felt breath on her neck. She turned quickly, ready to attack if it was an enemy, but she turned to find large, clear blue eyes and red hair that smelled like lilies. Leliana was so close, her face hovering over Shiva's shoulder, that Shiva's movement nearly had her kissing the sister's cheek.

"Do you know what this is?" Her voice was full of girlish excitement. Shiva suddenly found her lisp adorable, but why, she didn't know.

"Yes," Shiva answered, wondering why she was looking at the woman practically pressed up against her body this way. "It's the journal of a mage who was in the rebel army. I'm so taking this. Who cares who it belongs to." Shiva greedily snatched the stack of journals, four in all. Leliana was nodding behind her.

"Absolutely. Finders keepers, after all."

After stuffing the journals in her pack, Shiva refilled her flask. She didn't realize she drank so much of it while she read, but she felt a little different.

"How is the mead?" Leliana bent down to sniff at the spigot. "It smells… Different from any drink I've ever tried."

Shiva offered her flask. Leliana took a small sip and hummed. "It's… Magical!" Shiva raised her eyebrow, tasting what of the drink was still on her tongue.

"It's pretty good, I guess-"

"No, I mean – I feel like someone just cast a healing spell on me. I feel rejuvenated. Don't you feel it too?"

The former pirate wondered why she hadn't noticed it before, but that was the feeling it had given her as well. "Well, this guy was a mage. Maybe he mixed it with some sort of potion. Either way, it's not half bad. Makes me wish I still had a second flask."

Leliana giggled, shaking her head. "A second one? How much do you drink?"

"No, no. The second was filled with fresh water. It was for those rough days at sea."

"Oh," the sister giggled some more. "That's a relief. I was about to tell you that there's a small chance you have a drinking problem."

"It's only a problem when I start losing my lunch," Shiva winked.

The girls had wasted enough time with their banter and went further into Wilhelm's cellar. There was a group of darkspawn trying to figure out how to get past a magical barrier some of the surviving villagers had erected. Shiva and her companions had them slain before their audience knew who had come to their rescue.

Matthias was the son of Wilhelm. He asked Shiva if she could find his daughter deeper in the cellar. Shiva acquiesced, mostly because she wanted an excuse to see what else could be beyond there.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much. Some demons, some crystals, a dead man. No more magical mead. Oh, and a possessed cat that told her to solve a floor puzzle. The puzzle was in the center of the room, five by five tiles. There was an active furnace on one corner and each tile somehow directed the flow of the flames. Tampering with it and standing in the wrong spot got Shiva burned several times. Her companions didn't need to offer any help since she understood what she had to do pretty quickly. When the flames had been brought to the opposite corner, the anti-demon cat barrier was removed. She had no intention of letting the demon cat be free, however. Especially since it was going to possess Matthias' daughter. They killed the demon after it shifted back to its natural form and were free to head back out of the cellar. They had seen all it had to offer, and then some. Matthias was grateful enough to give them the correct phrase to activate the golem, who had been the reason for Wilhelm's demise.

Outside, they tried once more to activate the golem.

Shiva held her breath. This had been a full days detour that had resulted in injury - there was no way she would allow it to be for nothing. She already felt eyes on her back when Sten was behind her, ever since she opened his cage.

She knew the ways of the Qun, and she knew Sten was a firm believer in it since he was still identifying himself by his rank in the army. The Qun had specific rules about women's roles. In all honesty, it reminded her of her home outside of Thedas. But Thedas had been her whole world for the past 12 years, and she didn't have to follow what her people said. She sure didn't have to follow the Qun. Unfortunately, a warrior with a larger blade, superior strength, and most likely more experience on the battlefield did. She did not trust Sten. He was definitely not at ease around her - if their race was capable of being at ease.

But he was following her, as were Leliana and Morrigan. She didn't want to be made a fool of and waste their time in the process. The seconds before the large golem moved felt long. It did move though. Its head turned. Its arms shook before coming loose of whatever held it still. With a final shake, it was free. The golem stood to its full height and observed the scene before it - turning it's head both directions before looking down at Shiva standing directly before him. She was considering it with a look of academic interest. His gaze upon her was filled with contempt

"Well?" The golem snapped. "What is its command?" Shiva took a step back, mouth agape, before she burst into a fit of laughter.

"Oooh, no one told me golems were so touchy. Those dwarves are tricky folk, I'll tell ya."

The golem raised what would have been an eyebrow. "It does have the control rod, doesn't it? I am awake, so it must."

Shiva waved the control rod to show she did indeed have it. She let it drop to her side. "Considering your will is bound to it, you must know something about how the control rod works, yes? If I did not command you, would you be able to do as you wish?"

The golem gaped in surprise. It seemed to become skeptical however, as the seconds passed. "Is it playing some kind of game? Just command me already."

Shiva considered her next action carefully. If she was wrong, whatever soul inhabited the golem may depart and they would be left with nothing. If she was right, the creature would be in her debt. Perhaps even grateful.

"Oh, go on." The golem prodded. "It'll be fun."

"Very well. What is your name?"

"It can call me Shale."

"A pleasure to meet you, Shale." Shiva crossed her ankles and gave a slight curtsey. "Shale, destroy the fence." The action was carried out immediately. In a marvelous display, Shale strode over to the fence and reduced the logs to splinters with its massive stone fingers. Swiping left and right as it walked, the golem destroyed nearly half of it before she commanded him to stop. Shale stilled, standing before a vertical post. Shiva walked over to Shale, feeling how sturdy the control rod was. She couldn't tell what it was made of, but it seemed to be ivory veined with lyrium. She placed the control rod on the post.

"Sten, may I borrow your sword?" The qunari removed his steel claymore and handed it to her.

It had been long since she held a two-handed sword. Much less used one. She loved training with them. It best suited her when she fought in a rage, which was her usual mood when she had undergone training. With each powerful swing, she could feel the fury leaving her body. But now she would not sink the blade into some foe. No foe of hers, at least. She raised the sword over her head and brought it down on the control rod. With a burst of lightning, the control rod shattered in the center. Lyrium began to leak out of it and Shale stood in shock. Shiva had been thrown back by the force of the control rod breaking, but she was already on her feet, wondering if Shale was frozen in place once more.

Thankfully, it was not. "Could it actually be… broken? Then this means… I have free will! Command me once more and we shall find out!"

"Okay… Dance!" That seemed like a win-win situation. Who can claim to have seen a golem dance? How would that look? Would they dance as a small child does - hands curled into fists by their chest and jumping like they're stomping ants? Would it sway? Walk in place?

Shiva was a little disappointed when Shale responded with no dance. It was at a total loss for what to do. "Why would it break the control rod? Not that I disagree with what it has done, no. I grew tired of commands long ago, with that ridiculous mage. 'Golem, fetch me that chair. Golem, squish that insipid bandit.' Best of all, 'Golem, pick me up. I tire of walking.'"

_Wilhelm sounds like a dick. _

"I have no desire for a mindless stone rolling behind me. I am a leader, not a master. If you wish to follow me, you are welcome to. We are traveling, killing things, being followed by bounty hunters that were sent by a fussy general that's blaming us for his actions."

"I will follow it about then."

Shiva, Morrigan, Leliana, Sten, and Shale left the ruined village of Honnleath.

* * *

Lloyd was running fast for a fat man. He was even able to keep up with Bella, though that is only because when he groped her and she tried to get away, she twisted her ankle. Bella was still limping. It didn't help that she ran into a table and hit her hip that morning as well. Same side as the twisted ankle.

They were running toward the chantry. They thought staying in the tavern's cellar would keep them safe, but the walking dead had broken through. Several members of the militia at that, so they were armed with the last weapons the blacksmith made before he died. The chantry was too well barricaded for them to be let in, so Lloyd went to the ladder that was still propped up against one of the buildings and clambered up it. He had enough of a lead so he could get to the roof in time, but he kicked the ladder down, leaving Bella screaming in the courtyard with nowhere to go.

She limped to the chantry door in desperation, beating on the door and begging for help. She felt clammy hands wrap around her neck and pull her back enough to smash her head into the door with enough force to have her forehead cave in. The corpse smashed her head a few more times for good measure before it and some others sunk to the ground to devour her flesh.

Lloyd did not survive the night either. He was on top of the smithy, lying face down trying to keep quiet and out of sight. The corpses did not sense him and had forgotten all about his presence after Bella's unwilling sacrifice. Nearly two hours past midnight, the roof caved in and he fell right into the forge. It was still blazing since one of the men that remained had attempted to forge some shields. It had to be abandoned as the fog signaling the return of their undead nightmares came early.

Lloyd landed on his face. The impact knocked him out but did not kill him. Coals burned the side of his face and through his right eye. He awoke after some minutes, becoming aware of the pain and the noise from the undead breaking the door down. Pork roast, anyone?

Teagan was leaning against the wall. He knew the corpses wouldn't get in side. But that didn't stop the blood. He heard the poor tavern girl screaming. He wanted to help her. The thud and cracking of bone that came through the door, followed by the seeping of her blood under the door had sickened him. He paled and brought his hand to his lips. His usually graceful, steady hand now shook as it was poised by his mouth in an attempt to hold everything in. The only bit of luck on this night was that he was able to swallow the mouthful of vomit without anyone noticing how much it had affected him. He needed to be strong for the few souls left.

He tried to leave with them, but they were weak since there wasn't enough food left. One child fainted before they got across the small bridge up the hill. They all had to turn back with their hope shattered. Teagan was giving up. Surely none of them would survive the following night.

* * *

The two wardens had overslept. They had stayed up, drinking the magical mead and joking. Leliana kept distracting her, too, asking without words if they could look over Wilhelm's journals together. Shiva wanted to make sure Leliana was the one to sleep first so the sister wouldn't take a notion and get the journals out of Shiva's pack. She wanted them all to herself for the first reading.

It was late morning before camp was picked up. The only ones who hadn't lent a hand were Shale and Loki, who were still not getting along. Loki didn't know what to make of Shale. He kept running around the golem, barking. Shale didn't trust Loki either. It kept stomping around in a circle, warning Loki not to pee on him. Everyone but Sten watched the two creatures, chuckling and wondering how much longer they would be at it.

"Enough! Stop running about so I can KILL IT!" Shale did a massive stomp. The ground under the entire camp shook. Loki was feet away from the golem so he felt much more force than anyone else. The hound yipped and ran behind Shiva for protection. Those of the party that had served as an audience were howling with laughter.

It was a great start for the day and they were not at all prepared for what they would see when they'd reach Redcliff.


	10. It's Raining Wardens

Borrowed Time, Ch 10 – It's Raining Wardens

AN: Yummy yummy Teagan. That is all.

* * *

They were an hour away from Redcliff when Alistair stopped Shiva. They had been walking and talking on and off the first half of they day, so when they actually had to stop and talk she knew it was something serious. Especially since he had more trouble than usual getting the right words out. He even started with the nickname he thought of the day before, which meant he expected her to be angry about something he was about to say.

"Shiv, there's something I have to tell you and... You may think I should have told you before. Which is true! I know I should... you know, talk about it with people I have to be close with for stuff and... Anyway. Did I tell you how I knew Arl Eamon?"

Shiva was trying to be patient. It was getting more difficult with each 'you know' and 'um'. "No, you didn't."

"Well, he raised me. He's not my father. I'll come out and say it, I'm a bastard. My mother was a servant girl in the castle at Denerim and my father... Who did not raise me because Arl Eamon raised me... Well, he's King Maric. My father, that is. Eamon isn't Maric. Or my father."

The image of Cailan popped into her mind and she believed what Alistair said. "Huh. There's something about hearing it..." She considered what this meant, for her and for him. He must have had quite a bit of weight on his shoulders, even if as a bastard he was treated as a commoner. She had never heard of any child of Maric's besides Cailan, so how many knew of this secret? She had many questions, but she took a slower approach. He would probably tell her all in time, considering how much he liked to talk. "I knew a face that handsome could only belong to royalty. I also noticed you and Cailan looked just alike. Except you are a little bit cuter than he was." To tease him, Shiva started 'idly' tracing the edge of his gauntlet.

He chuckled, blushed –to no one's great surprise- and in a fake deep voice commanded, "My lady, unhand me before I call forth the wrath of Theirin blood upon ye!" He immediately regretted saying it that way and that loud. Returning to his version of normal, he softened into a quiet inquiry. "But you're not mad? About me not telling you sooner?"

"No ser. That's a pretty big deal and we hardly knew each other. I'm only surprised you're telling me this soon. What does being Maric's son mean to you?"

He seemed to get irritated about the general subject, suggesting he had lifelong problems with it. The way he stiffened answered her before he even spoke his mind. "It means being coddled by everyone that knows. Even Duncan kept me out of the fighting because of it. It means a lot of people who find out will probably want to use me somehow."

"What about Cailan's death? How do you feel about that, considering he's at least your half brother?"

"Well, I feel worse about it because of the fact he was my king, not so much because he was my half-brother. I mean, we didn't even know each other, really." He sighed. "I just thought I should tell you this now since it would probably come up around Eamon."

With that discussed, they continued. Leliana and Sten were curious about what transpired between the Wardens, but were getting used to them having their own little world and agenda. Shale, Morrigan and Loki had continued walking and were far ahead.

None of the party expected to find a ghost town. When they arrived, each had assumed they would have met someone on the road before even getting to the village. The only bodies they passed were dead ones. Most were torn, as if by animals. Their clothes, shoes and feet were dirty as if they had been running through the village trying to get away from whatever hunted them.

"Spread out, look for survivors or supplies." Shiva was scanning the area, looking for movement or any indication of which building survivors would be hiding in. Shale stomped forward, uneager to be stuck once again with more boring villagers. Luckily, there didn't seem to be any. The scared looks it would get had long since lost its appeal, but the golem was used to it. It just kept trudging forward, relying on its ears more than its eyes to pick out signs of life. If a sigh or scream was heard, it could herd the little sheep toward the rest of the group.

Morrigan remained in the center of the clearing, casting a spell. She summoned a wisp and whispered her command. As she stepped to the right, the wisp floated left. It would return to her and lead her to anything it had found. If it found nothing, it would return only to dissipate before her eyes.

Leliana approached the chantry. She was worried that the destruction from out there had gotten into the chantry and found she couldn't bear to see if it was so. She didn't want Morrigan to be the one to look because the witch would probably rejoice if the worst had happened. "If there are survivors in there, they will be safe. I will check it later." Leliana followed Loki to the left, who had his nose to the ground.

Sten broke the door down. Inside the building he saw a forge with a dead man inside. He was large, charred on one side and had chunks of flesh ripped off his forearm and face. His clothes had burned off, leaving every fattened part of his body in full view. Sten snorted, checking the walls for supplies. The store was bare so he turned to leave. Something below a crate caught his eye just before he exited. It looked like a piece of raised wood, perhaps a shield. It would be of no use to him, but he knew Alistair had a flimsy shield he was using. The qunari approached the crate anyway, trying to see if there was anything else of use in the vicinity. What he thought was a shield was actually a trap door, which was locked. If the fat roasted human in the forge had the key, it would be difficult to find in the coals and probably too hot to touch. Sten decided punching through would be more efficient. Inside, he found a pathetic stockpile - daggers, leather armor, a longsword. He scooped up what he found and carried it outside, dumping everything in full view in case one of his other companions saw anything useful.

Alistair went to the residential area. He climbed the stairs, finding blood all over the planks. To his left, a door had been broken down. There was a knife on the ground where he could see. When he entered the small house, he could see an open wardrobe with toys on the bottom. It was as if a child had chosen there to hide. Stepping further into the house, Alistair called out to see if any of the family remained. He heard whimpers from down the hallway. The hallway turned right to a flight of stairs and led to a closed door. The door was locked when he tried it. After the rattle of the knob, more whimpers came from inside – louder than before. "Hello? Is anyone in there? I'm not here to hurt you. Hello?"

"Who is it? Why are you in our house?" A shaky voice had spoken, definitely belonging to a young woman.

"My name is Alistair. I was here to go to the castle before I saw the… What happened here? Can you tell me that, at least?" It wasn't likely they'd open the door for a stranger when something horrible had ravaged their home. It was probably best the door remained locked in case whatever did this came back.

"Dead things keep coming back at night. They destroy everything… drag people off! Our mama…" Alistair could hear the young woman sobbing and another hushed voice in desperate need of comfort.

"What kind of dead things? Does that mean it's safe in the daylight?"

"They came earlier last night, almost before the sun was gone for the evening. They're people! Loved ones we've lost this past week. The blacksmith is who took our mama. He had died the night before. We saw it from the window…" She couldn't speak more through her crying.

"Are there any other survivors? Anywhere at all? How many are in there with you?"

A lad answered this time. "It's just me and my sister. Everyone else is in the chantry, but when we saw one girl go knocking, they didn't let her in. They won't unbar the door!"

Alistair heard a loud crash then, coming from outside towards the courtyard, possibly beyond it. The two inside heard it too. "Wait here, I'll go see what that was. Stay quiet! I'm here with some friends, if any others come, don't be afraid of them." Alistair bounded down the stairs and ran outside.

Shiva watched the group each go their separate directions, then headed back up the hill where they had passed a few buildings. There was a long, rickety looking bridge to her right, leading to a house. That would be a dead end and anyone who ran there would have been trapped. Anyone that stupid would probably be dead. So the warden continued further up the hill and went to the building at the top. Straight to the tavern, as usual.

Inside, there were discarded pints, plates and utensils on the tables. Chairs and stools were turned over. Behind the bar was cleared. The door to the cellar was smashed open and there was a corpse by it that had been stabbed in the head. The dagger was still embedded in its skull. Shiva found little else in there. She walked back outside and walked to the edge of the deck. She had a good view of the whole area. Below her, she could see Loki and Leliana returning to the clearing where Morrigan already stood. The wisp returned to her and blinked out of existence. Sten was standing over a pile of something he had found, much like a dog that had uncovered bones and was waiting for his pat on the head.

There was a steadily growing noise below Shiva. The planks she stood on were groaning under her weight. She didn't notice in time. Taking a few steps to the side wasn't enough, and she didn't have enough time to turn and run to steady ground. The deck fell below her; all she could do was hope the roof below her would break her fall and not her neck.

* * *

Shiva came to with a splitting headache. Whispers were coming from all around her. She wondered if she would open her eyes to another nightmare, but as she lay there her surroundings cleared and did not get more menacing. When she opened her eyes, a priestess was hovering over her. Behind her stood a nobleman. The blue tunic he wore matched his eyes, which shined brightly. His hair was auburn, short except for a braid he had tucked behind his ear. High cheekbones and a chiseled jaw, his chin was covered with scruff, shaped into the 'devil beard' as she called it. He happened to be devilishly handsome, too. "Mother Hannah, is she well?" Mephistopheles had what was probably the sexiest voice Shiva had ever heard. It was smooth and deep.

"The Maker's protection is over her-"

Shiva's chuckle surprised them. The devil kneeled beside Shiva. He sure didn't act like the devil - he seemed worried about her condition. "My lady, are you alright?" His hand was on her shoulder.

"Did I do that?" She pointed at the hole in the roof above her. Slowly turning her head, she saw parts of the roof and balcony around her.

"You fell through the roof." He nodded. "Gave everyone quite a scare. I wasn't sure you had survived your fall. I am relieved you have."

Shiva heard her name from above. It was Alistair calling. She wasn't ready to be on her feet yet, but she sat up anyway. She had her hand on Lucifer's shoulder to steady herself.

"Down here, Alis. I'm in the chantry."

"So that's what it takes to get you in one, huh? I'll be right down." Shiva regretted laughing at his joke. It intensified the throbbing in her head.

"I'd recommend using the door." She called to him.

"Berwick," the devil called an elf over. "Her companions are coming in, take down the barricade blocking the door." The elf nodded and went to the door. There was something suspicious about him, but that was usually the case when an elf was locked in a room full of humans.

Shiva took in the rest of the area now that she was alert once more. It smelled like candles and fear. There were bookcases all around. Some shelves had been cleared, leaving piles of books on the floor here and there. The altar was kept relatively clean, though it was covered in candle wax. Women and children were cowering in a small alcove near the altar. There were about fifteen in all, including Mother Hannah, Berwick and Satan himself.

"My lady - your name is Shiva, correct? That is what your friend called you. My name is Teagan, Bann of Rainesfere," they shook hands. It was warm and calloused. She figured he was a swordsman.

She knew of him. She had lived in a small village near his bannorn. The village was burned and had become haunted. The new evil that had arisen there was powerful, so several Banns from nearby heard of it. Teagan was one of the ones who went to investigate personally. He had traveled there with 10 men and left with 3. He was heavily injured himself. She knew more than she wanted to about that incident.

"I've heard much about you, Bann Teagan."

"Good things I hope. Now if I may ask, what has brought you here? Had you heard what was happening?"

"No, we were trying to see Arl Eamon concerning the Blight. My friend and I are Grey Wardens. The Blight continues and we need to rebuild the army against it." Alistair and the others were let in by then.

Teagan opened his mouth to speak before noticing something behind Shiva. "Alistair? Is that you? Oh, thank the Maker you yet live! Eamon and I feared you had fallen along with Cailan."

"Not yet, no. While Loghain has anything to say about it, we kind of have to watch out backs."

"Indeed, I was at the Landsmeet where he declared all Grey Wardens traitors."

"Then could you enlighten us as to what crawled up his ass?" Shiva's previous knowledge of the great Hero of River Dane was inconsistent with the erratic actions he had shown since their brief meeting. She didn't know if he was always like that and the storybooks decided to leave that out or what. Hopefully the Bann could shed some light on that.

Mother Hannah fussed. "Watch your language, this is a holy place! The Maker-"

"The Maker and I aren't on good terms, lady. Now don't interrupt." Chantry folk were usually patronizing old maids and frankly, sometimes they needed a dose of their own medicine.

"I don't know what has gotten into Loghain," Teagan wasn't put off by Shiva's disrespect to the priestess, but they needed to stay on topic.

"What did he say exactly?" Alistair was asking. He had loathed Loghain since his retreat at Ostagar. So much that it colored Alistair's opinion on what he thought before. It was as if he had always hated the Teyrn, which wasn't the case.

"He said he pulled his men in order to save them. That Cailan risked everything in the name of glory. He declared that the Grey Wardens were traitors… murderers of the king. I don't believe it. It is an act of a desperate man."

"Handsome and perceptive. Why haven't we met before?"

"I'm sure I don't know, but whatever it is that has kept us apart until now has officially earned my resentment." Teagan turned the charm on high when she said this. When he smiled, his eyes squinted into small crescents that made Shiva want to giggle. She had no idea how he managed it with such simple words, but her entire body felt warm, cheeks especially.

"If it's the same thing that's harassing Redcliff, when we kill it that'll be two birds with one stone." She tried to cool off the mood a little, lest she pounce on the nobleman then and there, earning another scolding remark from Mother Hannah.

"Then you do intend to help us?" Teagan was able to switch from responsible and compassionate to lustful in the blink of an eye. He must have been a delightful tease when he put his mind to it.

"Yes, though I would expect your alliance in exchange." Shiva wasn't happy about how much time this could take, and the risk involved. But she knew there would always be a price.

_Quid pro quo, yes or no. Yes or no, Clarice?_

"Then you have it, and thank you, my lady. This is wonderful news. But what is it you intend to do? I tried to lead these people to safety but they are weak from lack of water and nutrition. They cannot make it far."

"Do you know what is going on in the castle?"

"I do not. There isn't a sound at all coming from it. I wish to enter it but cannot leave the rest behind."

Shiva had to think hard on this one. He seemed determined to protect the handful that remained, though leaving them behind would be her preference. They would be of no use, only a hindrance. "How far in are the kitchens? If there is trouble in the castle, I know we can plow through it. They can get nourishment, find more secure refuge inside and we can perhaps find more answers there."

"I think you may be right. If we could speak aside for a moment, warden?" Teagan led Shiva closer to the altar and spoke in a hushed tone. "I know of a secret entrance into the castle. I can lead everyone there and get us inside. Though I see you have companions and would have to ask that one or two of them help keep an eye on the women and children. I can lead while you and the rest who will help clear the danger – if there is danger inside – follow. Can you do this for me?"

"Yes, I can have Alistair and Leliana – the woman in the robes – guard the survivors. My Mabari will also stay with them to stay alert for signs of danger. The rest of us will go with you." Teagan looked over her party. This meant the qunari, the golem, and the very obvious apostate would be with him, as would the Warden, who looked like a capable fighter herself.

"That will do. We have very little supplies left, mostly food and water we've had to ration. I will tell them to finish it off so they can have the strength to make it to the secret entrance. It isn't far, but it is up the hill. This will leave less to carry." Teagan walked toward Mother Hannah and Berwick to update them, and Shiva did the same to her party.

Morrigan immediately opposed. "How pointless. One would think we'd have enough to contend with elsewhere."

"What, you think they would just hop aboard a carriage, we'd have their alliance after having to do nothing for them? You have much to learn, wild one." Shiva had her hands on her hips and was shaking her head.

"And you have much wisdom to acquire, for if you had any you would know not to patronize me." Shiva laughed at her annoyance.

_Directly taunting a mage now? She may be right about my lack of wisdom. I'll be damned if I acknowledge that aloud, though.__  
_

Leliana interrupted before Morrigan could cast a 'fuck you' spell. "I will gladly defend the women and children for you."

Alistair agreed with her plan. "Oh, there are some others too, I spoke to them in one of the houses. They're keeping the door locked, but I think I can convince them."

"Go get them then. Lead them here and be quick about it." Alistair jogged towards the door and went outside.

They waited another several minutes before everyone was ready and gathered by the door. Mother Hannah had told everyone what was about to happen, and Alistair returned with a woman in her early twenties and a small boy, presumably her brother. The group, now consisting of 22 people, a golem, and a dog, started for the secret entrance.


	11. Storming the Castle

Borrowed Time, Ch 11 – Storming the Castle

* * *

Once they entered the windmill, Teagan revealed a secret door that was covered in a pile of hay and a crate. One by one, they went inside. Teagan and Shiva went first, with Sten, Morrigan and Shale following. They were in the dungeons. Cells were on either side, three to a wall, and several corpses were hovering outside of the farthest cell. The group attacked, surprising the corpses and the prisoner. Teagan was a skilled fighter. His style was similar to Alistair, though his weapons were doing more damage. Shiva made a mental note to get better supplies for everyone at some point.

Then they cleared the area, they spoke to the prisoner. He was a thin, wiry mage in circle robes. His voice was high and whiny. "Who are you people? You don't look like guards…"

Teagan addressed the prisoner. "I am Bann Teagan. Why have you been left here? And what do you know of what's been going on in the castle?"

The mage seemed hesitant to answer Teagan. He swallowed and sputtered.

"Hey kiddo, your situation can be much worse. Spit it out or we'll prove it." Shiva's threat rang clear to the mage. His eyes widened and he nodded furiously.

"So sorry. Um, I'm in here.. because… because I'm the one who poisoned Arl Eamon."

Teagan's face twisted into a snarl. "Why?" he spat. He looked like he would force himself through the bars and strangle the mage. "Why did you poison my brother?"

The mage was already in tears. "I'm so sorry, my lord. I was captured for being an apostate. I'm a blood mage. I was hired to poison the arl in exchange for my freedom. I wouldn't have done it, I swear! But, it was Teyrn Loghain that hired me to do it! He told me the Arl was a threat to Ferelden. He.. I- I.. You have to believe me!" Shiva could recognize sincerity when she saw it. That didn't excuse his stupidity, nor explain the damage that was done to Redcliff. "I know I was wrong, but that's all I did. I'm not responsible for the demons and the killings!"

"How did you even poison Eamon?" Teagan was still seething. His sword was still drawn and he looked like the most dangerous thing in the area. Shiva knew not to underestimate someone so volatile.

"I was hired by Arlessa Isolde. Connor showed signs of magic and she hired me to instruct him."

Teagan was shocked by his explanation, but he wasn't fully buying it either. "My nephew… A mage? That is madness! I will not have any more of your lies."

"I'm not lying, Bann Teagan! It was kept a secret so Connor wouldn't be sent to the Circle! I was happy to help him with what I could. The Circle is a horrible place. Trust me." The mage's final whimper spoke volumes of misery.

"'Happy to help him?'" Teagan, with his amazing rich voice, was mocking the mage. "By poisoning his father?" The mage had nothing to say to him. He simply bowed his head in shame. The tears fell straight to the stone floor on which they stood.

"Pfft. I don't know what to make of him. Warden, your thoughts?" Teagan's eyes were still glittering with anger.

"I believe him. The fool is in over his head, but he's sincerely remorseful. Not that that does any good. He will be punished, but that is for another time. We need to continue. He is going nowhere."

Teagan glared at the mage and sighed. "Very well. I will tell the others to follow." Shiva sent her three companions ahead to search for danger and clear any they found, but to stay close. This left her alone to stand by the imprisoned mage, who was still sniffling.

"Come now, little spitfire. Dry your eyes. You're a man under those robes, aren'tcha?" She spoke in a lighter tone to take the edge off her words. She really did feel sorry for the little man. "Don't you remember me?"

He looked up at her. His sight must have been blurred by the tears because he had to blink them away. "We met at the tower! Oh, please tell me what happened after I left. Did you see what happened to Lily? Was Solona recruited?" Shiva shook her head.

"Lily was sent to the mage's prison for being an accomplice. Solona was caught in your magic. She fell down the stairs and broke her neck. She is dead." He looked at her in horror before breaking down into more sobs. He muttered half buried words about how it's all his fault, he should've never, he wished he'd never, etc. Shiva reached through the bars and squeezed his shoulder. He placed his hand on hers. His touch was a little too gentle, like he was afraid of breaking at the contact.

"Thank you for believing me." Maker damn it, he was so _pitiful_! She was glad everyone passed them. When Teagan passed, she followed him to the front of the group. Beyond the door, they were officially in the castle. Morrigan stood with Sten and Shale.

"There is demonic activity within the next room. We were about to deal with them," the witch reported.

"Let's go." Shiva drew her sword and dagger and followed Morrigan to where she sensed the demons.

There were many demons and raised corpses. A few rabid Mabari had been feasting on a dead kennel master and attacked the group when they neared. The alpha wore an enchanted, spiked collar. Shiva took it for Loki. She'd have to ask Morrigan what magical qualities it had once they were done with this mess. They left the women and children under Alistair, Leliana and Loki's supervision.

When the remaining five reached the courtyard, a revenant was waiting for them. It was surrounded by several of the living dead. While the humans and qunari went for the corpses, Shale went directly for the revenant. When they were dead, Teagan led them into the dining hall. They knew the source was there, thanks to Morrigan's heightened magical senses.

The dining hall was large and open. Perfect for a battle if it came to that. There were four dead knights around the room. One was on the ground shaking and coughing blood. Before him stood a horrified woman and a boy. The woman was Arlessa Isolde. She wore a pink and red dress of Orlesian design. Her hair was tied up in a bun and she was pale from shock. She stood with her shoulders slumped and her head hanging, but she still watched the knight suffer. It was like she couldn't tear her eyes away. The boy was smiling as he watched. His eyes were faintly glowing, and there was an abnormal darkness around his eyes, worse than any fatigue could explain. When the boy's demonic eyes saw Teagan and those who followed him, the boy flicked his wrist, causing the knights neck to snap.

Teagan gaped. "Connor..."

"So these are our visitors. You have killed all of my guests, you know." The child's voice was masked by a dark rumble that spoke above him, slightly echoing. "Look mother!" Isolde squealed when the demon child grabbed her arm and shook it to get her attention. "There are women with uncle. They are lovely women. I'm sure he would rather ravish them than you. Will you not execute them in a fit of jealousy?" Shiva liked the ravishing part, even if she had to share him with Morrigan. Isolde turned a deep shade of red and fell to her knees.

"Oh Connor, please, do not listen! If you are awake in there..." She was sobbing and clutching at the clothes her son's body wore.

"Get away from me, foolish woman! Are you not aware I am your son? Do you not love me as I am?"

Still crying, Isolde muttered, "I love my Connor always."

Teagan stepped forward, "Demon, you will release your hold on my nephew!" The demon laughed. Connor's voice was heard easily then, but it was still tinged with an evil that was unnatural for a child.

"Uncle, you know the rules of the game! Have you played it before? I bet you are good at it, aren't you uncle? Let's see if you are better than your friends." Connor stretched his hand towards Teagan. The Bann shook, nearly falling to his knees before straightening again. There was a change in him. He was swaying where he stood, the demon laughed at him. Teagan slowly turned toward Shiva.

He had an unnatural smile on his face. His eyes were heavy and glassy. He had become a thrall to the demon. Enthralled Teagan drew his sword and quickly slashed at Shiva. He shouted a gleeful 'a-ha!' and as he kept trying to attack her and her companions, he laughed maniacally.

Isolde was watching them, hands over her mouth. Behind Connor, the last knight was sneaking toward the demon. He grabbed Connor tight, but a dark magic radiated from the child and knocked the knight out cold. Connor ran past the group and went through a corridor. Isolde ran the opposite direction, kneeled in a corner and prayed.

Shiva's sword was drawn and she was deflecting Teagan's blows. He had lost some of his edge in battle as a thrall, luckily for her. Morrigan cast her ice spell on him and he was frozen in place. Sten approached to smash the nobleman turned iceberg, but Shiva stood between them.

"We need him alive if we are to leave here with an army." Sten grunted and backed away. He would try again if he saw another opening, however.

Teagan began to thaw and Shiva was ready for him. He broke out of the ice when it was thin enough. The warden bashed him on the head with the pommel of her sword. Teagan fell to the ground, unconscious.

"The boy fled." Morrigan had noticed Connor's retreat while the others were watching Teagan.

Shiva walked over to where Isolde was kneeling. She grabbed the Arlessa's arm and roughly pulled her to her feet. "The boy ran down that hall, where does it lead?"

Isolde's brown, almond shaped eyes were wide with fear. Though she was taller, her knees were bent and she was practically limp, standing only because of the warden's grip on her arm. She stood under Shiva's stern expression. "The family quarters. He… He's probably scared and went there. My son breaks through sometimes. He may be going to be near his father."

"Has the demon done anything to Arl Eamon? We know it was the mage who poisoned him. Was the mage under the influence of the demon?"

"No, I think the mage released the demon after he was imprisoned. Please, you have to help us! My boy, and my husband…" Isolde fell to the ground again, sobbing. The knight was shakily getting to his feet and behind them. Teagan was also stirring. Isolde's head popped up and she ran to her brother-in-law. "Teagan! Oh, Teagan. Thank the Maker you are alive. I would have never forgiven myself had you died!"

Shiva put her hand on Teagan's shoulder. "Are you alright?" He was rubbing his eyes. He ran his hand through his hair, pulling away when he felt blood on his fingers. "Sorry about that. Had to get you down somehow."

"I am… Better now. My mind is my own again." He was staring at the floor trying to make sure he was well. He turned to Shiva. "You acted wisely, my lady. The Maker smiled upon us when He sent you here. And thank you."

"We cannot celebrate yet." Isolde was sulking beside Teagan. "Connor is still possessed. Oh Teagan, what do we do?"

Shiva turned to Morrigan to see if she had any suggestions. The witch paused in thought. "The most simple option is to kill the child. The other options are rituals. They cannot be done by one mage, however. We would need the imprisoned blood mage or, though it disgusts me to say it, Circle mages."

"Jowan seems remorseful enough to try to clean this mess up," Shiva considered him, but didn't think he could do much. The robes he wore were the ones for an apprentice. "But I doubt he would even have the power or knowledge for it. Would you be willing to try?"

Teagan curled his lip at the mention of Jowan. "I do not trust him. He poisoned my brother and set all of this in motion."

Isolde stepped forward, directly inserting herself among them. "I do not trust him either, but if he can help we can convince him to! The Circle is a whole day's journey away and if they do come and help Connor, they would take him away! Either way, he is lost to me."

"It would be for his own good!" Isolde shrunk back when Teagan shouted at her. "All of this can rightly be called your fault for hiring the mage to teach Connor in secret."

"As enjoyable as it is to point out other people's stupidity, it doesn't help us right now." Shiva sighed and ignored the glares from Isolde about her comment. Wasn't her fault the Orlesian bitch was stupid and selfish.

She would rather let Jowan do blood magic, but Alistair would shit a brick when he found out. They needed to go to the tower for aid. Perhaps now was the time.

"We'll see what the Circle can do about this. Maybe they'll help deal with Jowan as well." Shiva wasn't too happy with this option, but it would have to do. She could tell Morrigan wasn't pleased with the thought of going to the Circle. "Will you be safe here?"

"Yes, we can surely keep things under control for today. Ser Perth, will you help me oversee the survivors?" Teagan addressed the silent knight that had overheard everything.

The knight bowed his head. "Yes, my lord. I can go to them now, if you wish."

"Very good, ser. Shiva, you will want all of your companions together, yes? If you would show Ser Perth where they are."

Shiva nodded and headed back to where Alistair, Leliana, and Loki remained with the villagers. Ser Perth stood guard as he was ordered to and Shiva left the castle with her companions.


	12. Ferelden Dinner, Orlesian Dessert

Borrowed Time, Ch 12 – Ferelden Dinner, Orlesian Dessert, Antivan Breakfast

Rating – this one is M-ish to me. Sex happens but y'all don't get details

* * *

The sun was nearly gone. It seeped a red orange glow from behind a mountain as night came. The camp had been made an hour before. Alistair was cooking some sort of mushy rabbit stew, Sten and Shale were on watch and Morrigan was trying to keep Loki from eating the herbs she was trying to mix into a poultice. Leliana was rummaging through something within her tent, and Shiva sat by the fire with Wilhelm's journals. She had read through the first already. It had details from before Queen Moira was killed, during Maric's disappearance as well as his return with Loghain and Rowan. She was reading about the first battle he was in when he returned. There were several details different from what she had read elsewhere. Wilhelm was a high-ranking official in the army, below Rowan and her father, and of course Maric. He complained that Loghain was an unknown but they were already listening to his strategies.

The second journal had the accounts of the rebel army taking Gwaren, and then ending with the battle of River Dane. The third journal spoke of Maric finally getting the throne, and Wilhelm returning to his wife and son in Honnleath to focus on his experiments. The fourth seemed entirely of his experiments with Shale and demons.

Shiva stopped reading when she felt slight warmth behind her, like a body that was nearly touching her. Leliana, of course. The priestess completely ignored the rules of personal space anytime Shiva took the journals out. Shiva didn't mind too much though. Leliana read over Shiva's shoulder. Shiva wasn't usually self-conscious, but she knew she needed a bath. There was water nearby because they were following the shores of Lake Calenhad to the tower. Shiva handed Leliana the journal she held. There came a lisped inquiry when the warden walked away. "Where are you off to?"

"Bathe."

"I will probably do so soon too." Leliana smiled and watched her grab soap from her pack and head toward the lake.

After Shiva bathed, she sat on a large boulder cleaning her armor. Morrigan had given up mixing herbs thanks to Loki's constant pestering and was in the river, washing her hair further down the shore. Leliana stepped out of her robes and slowly walked into the lake. It was cold, so she took her time. It was several minutes before she made it to where the water was above her breasts.

As she washed her hair, she admired Shiva's form. This was the first time she had seen her with her hair pulled back, several strands fell over her eyes and face as her head was bent down over her chore. At that angle, Leliana could not see her eyes - which she loved looking into. She noticed the color would change. They would turn from a cornflower blue to a deep blue, nearly violet. Leliana loved to imagine the pirate queen on her ship, eyes matching the dark waves she sailed on. She could see her lashes, they were long and fanned out beautifully, like a peacock's tail feathers. Her chest rose with each breath, she was breathing heavy and slowly, in the rhythm that usually meant someone was sleeping. Her breasts were lovely. Larger than hers and possibly Morrigan's. Her nipples were small and adorable. They were perky thanks to the cold night, and Leliana was suddenly grateful for the cool. Shiva sat with her legs crossed. Her greaves were on her lap, partially covering her sex. Her legs were smooth and pale as the rest of her skin. And she had very pretty feet.

Leliana rinsed her hair, and then finished bathing. She walked out of the water and sat next to Shiva to wash her robes. "I was admiring the way you look while I was in the water." She admitted. "You are very beautiful. This I have noticed before. But in your natural state you are so much more striking. The armor and weapons you hold are distracting."

The warden was smirking. "I noticed. And thank you." She said no more. Shiva was finished cleaning her armor, but she remained while Leliana was there. They spoke of their pasts. Leliana let it slip that she had a more adventurous past before joining the chantry, and Shiva had wondered what it was. She finally admitted she was a bard before. She didn't speak of it much beyond that, just how she had been betrayed by her bard master, but not the manner of the betrayal. It was enough for Shiva.

"I was betrayed too." Shiva had never told anyone about what happened. It didn't matter anymore. "My crew mutinied. Apparently my first mate was displeased that I had not died as soon as he hoped. You know how suspicious men at sea get, many thought bad luck would come when a woman was on board, despite all the riches we had found." Shiva sighed in anger at the memory.

"What happened, exactly?" Leliana had set her robes aside to dry. She was facing the warden, both still naked.

"We had just taken out a pirate ship in the Waking Sea. They were smuggling a shipment of a very deadly poison to the Free Marches. We turned around and sailed toward the ocean after nearly a flawless victory. It was a dark night and I was on the deck, alone save a few of my men. I was looking out over the sea when I could tell someone was behind me. When I turned to look, there were a dozen. Most were glaring, a few were looking unsure as if they were expecting me to kill them all any second. I would have had I known...

This big brute stood in the front of the group, he kicked me in the chest before I could say anything. I fell overboard; I could hear them all roaring with laughter before I fell into the sea. I was trying to find a way to get back on board, treading the water below where the mutineers stood. My first mate, Aidan, stood beside the cheering bastards, staring coldly down at me. But beside him, two I had noticed in the group released a rowboat for me. Aidan couldn't stop them, but he had some of his followers slit their throats as they leaned over the side." Shiva shrugged. "I rowed south, toward Ferelden. It took me a day. Where I ended up was north of Orzammar, so that's where I went to regroup." Her knees were by her chin and her arms propped up by them, fingers laced. Leliana put her hand on Shiva's arm when she could see the pirate getting angry all over again. "The whole time I was rowing, I was staring at the blood in the rowboat." She fell silent for a moment. "If I ever find them, I'll kill them, and sink that goddamn ship. If she isn't mine, she belongs to no one. Especially not that Orlesian cannibal fucker."

"What Orlesian?"

"My first mate was an Orlesian nobleman. His family was killed, except himself and his sister. The two of them were kidnapped. It was winter, they ran out of food, so one day the captors killed his sister. Served her in the stew. He was alone until he found out he had a half brother in an orphanage. Broke him out of there and they both became pirates on the ship. They were there before I was. When I became captain, Aidan and I grew close. He was a good advisor. Intelligent, artistic, handsome. He taught me quite a bit. But he was a dark influence on his brother. I don't know when the younger turned into a cannibal. It was after I appointed the sick little bastard as the cook though. I know they fed the crew human flesh several times. I couldn't prove it though; I didn't know when it was. Supposedly it's not too dissimilar in taste and texture from some other meat."

"That's terrible." She didn't know what else to say.

From where she sat beside Shiva, she could see that her back was heavily scarred. There were tears along her back when she had been flogged. There were branded letters along her spine. It spelled the word 'stone'. The S was just below her neck and the word ended midway down her back. She gently let her finger run over the pirate's scars. "Was this because you were a pirate too?" Shiva moved away. She was sensitive about that. She could see it in the mirror sometimes and knew that it was unsightly.

"No, something else entirely. If I must speak of it, that will be later." Leliana wasn't put off by being snapped at. She grabbed the warden's face in both of her hands and kissed her. She didn't know if Shiva liked women, but pirates were usually open minded about partners. The bard was so aroused by this woman; her sex was wet and pulsing. She felt exhilarated by her tale and wanted to turn her anger into another form of passion. Shiva didn't pull away, she instead turned toward Leliana and deepened the kiss. They broke apart when they heard a "blech" behind them. The girls turned to see Morrigan standing there, hands on her hips.

"The men wish to rid themselves of their reek in the lake. I suggest you two take your nauseating display elsewhere." The witch quickly turned around and walked away. Leliana twirled a loose piece of Shiva's hair around her finger.

"You know where my tent is..." She put her robes on and walked away. Shiva dressed and followed.

Back at the camp, Alistair was laying on the grass. "There you are. Stew's done! It's actually not bad."

"By whose standards?" She retorted.

"Heeey, I don't see you cooking anything, woman!"

"Pfft, go bathe. You smell like a sock." Alistair grumbled jokingly and stomped off toward the river. Shiva took a bowl of stew - which had improved, she'll give him that. When she finished her supper, she sat by the fire thinking. Leliana was in her tent with the journals. Shiva wasn't sure whether to take her up on her offer or not.

She often got aroused by the thought of being with another of her sex. She would probably enjoy it too, as long as no strings were attached. She knew she could not fall in love with a woman. The traits she looked for in a mate were masculine, stoic and dominating. She didn't like such traits in women, she liked them feminine.

Looking from the fire to Leliana's tent, she got up and let herself inside.

* * *

The next morning, they had not traveled far before Morrigan walked alongside Shiva to make her opinion on last night known. "I do not know why you have defiled yourself with the preachy chantry sister. I am surprised at you."

"Pleasure is pleasure. Besides, look at the men that are with us. Neither are particularly fuckable. Alistair is handsome but he'd fumble and spill his seed before he got it inside. And Sten? Even if he could be seduced, he'd probably tear any human female open." Morrigan laughed.

"I choose Sten."

Shiva chuckled, shaking her head. "He's all yours. Good luck. I'll be rooting for you two."

"I do not need luck." The witch spoke with surprisingly little disdain. "I suppose I agree with you about pleasure, however. I did not expect the chantry girl to be seduced."

Shiva shrugged. "She put the moves on me. I just figured 'why not?'"

"So it meant nothing, hmm? That is more like it." If there was any approval to be gotten with her over the topic, she had just gotten it. Morrigan was probably going to watch that situation like a hawk now that she knew the pirate was using Leliana.

The party was passing a small valley with two low cliffs on either side. Shiva did not enter it fully before stopping. She stood by a large tree, trying to figure out why something felt off. She felt a tingle in her neck. She knew what it usually meant but there were no others in sight, besides her companions. When she turned to look at everyone behind her, an arrow hit the tree where she had been standing.

She looked at the arrow, then around the area. No one was seen, but she followed the arrows trajectory. She quickly drew her dagger and threw it into a bush where the arrow had come from behind. A bald rogue fell from there, over the cliff.

A sharp whistle was heard and several more of them emerged. Everyone burst into action. Morrigan was casting spells, Sten, Alistair, Shale and Loki charged. Leliana stood in the back with her bow. As Shiva went another way, she had someone jump on her back. There was a woman in front of her with a dagger and someone still on top of her. She elbowed them in the ribs and rolled over, knocking them off. She had been disarmed during the fall, so she faced the woman unarmed. Shiva stood, dodging the woman's slash and grabbing her arm in the process. Ducking behind her, she twisted the woman's arm and glared at the one who jumped on her, who was just getting on his feet.

He was an elf. He had less tattoos on his face than the Dalish did, there were only a few lines, curved to accent the shape of his brow and cheek on the left side. He had blonde shoulder length hair, braided at the side and pulled to the back. He was handsome for an elf. He wasn't as feminine and skittish-looking as most male elves were. He was slick - in fact, a little too slick. He had a dark tan, full lips and amber eyes. His build was lean and cut. He held daggers in each hand and looked her dead in the eye with a wide smirk. She could tell he was overconfident. Two could play that game. She mirrored his expression and snapped the neck of the woman she held. Holding her up, she pushed the corpse into the elf and reached for her sword that had fallen, as well as the dagger the female had dropped – which was much nicer than hers.

The elf fell back against the tree, pinned by the dead woman and another rogue came up beside Shiva, swinging. She moves closer to the elf to grab the arrow from it. The rogue behind her was still swinging. She moved, the rogue ended up slicing the elf on the arm. The elf glared at his companion, but turned to Shiva and chuckled at her maneuver. Shiva gouged the rogue's eye with the arrow. She had to shove the arrow farther in to kill him. She was free to deal with the elf.

She saw that his cut was deep, his skin was separated into a large wound. She took a vial of poison from her belt and uncapped the vial. She splashed it on his arm, the elf winced at the burning pain.

Shiva stuck her hand on the poisoned cut and pressed into it, wrapping her fingers around his arm in a vice. He took a deep breath, but was doing well not showing any more pain. He flicked his dagger, trying to stab her, but he missed. She kicks him with her jutting steel-toed boots in the kneecap and flipped him. She stomped on his chest, knocking the wind out of him. He got up after a few seconds, clutching chest, dagger still drawn. She gave him a hard fist to the jaw and knocked him out. She disarmed and bound him while the others took care of the last few.

When all the rest were dead, the group surrounded their captive. Shiva knelt and slapped the side of his face a few times to see if he'd wake. It seemed to help. A few seconds later he was groaning and opening his eyes.

"Nice little ambush you had here. It wasn't just for little ol' me, hmm?" Shiva stood above the elf, hands on her knees and smiling sweetly at him.

"No, not just for you, my dear. Though if you untie me, I may have something just for you. Or don't untie me! I am quite fond of this particular kink. Hahaha!" He spoke with a thick Antivan accent. Shiva loved Antiva. There was no culture she preferred. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Zevran. I am a member of the Antivan Crows and I was hired to kill two surviving Grey Wardens."

Shiva gasped. "A crow! Alis, someone sent abuncha crows after us! I'm feeling special, how about you?"

Alistair was incredulous. "Shiva, I think someone needs to have you checked out. Having assassins after us is in no way cool."

Zevran was smiling below Shiva, pleased with her sense of humor about the whole thing.

"So who hired you?" Shiva went back to being serious for the sake of extracting information.

"Teyrn Loghain did. Understand that whatever issues he has with you, I do not. So mercy would be most welcome by me." Hopefully he was more charming than that. He'd have to try a lot harder.

"Ok, Loghain is really starting to piss me off. I think we should spike his tea. Preferably something that will make him gassy. Nice and embarrassing in the middle of court. It's not like he's made any useful contributions lately." Shiva was giggling at her own plot. She'd totally do it, too. If she knew how to pull it off.

Zevran was amused by her idea as well. He laughed heartily at it. "A cruel scheming mind if I ever saw one. For a price, I could even attempt it for you!"

"No! Assassins get all the fun! It's my turn, damn it. Besides, I'm not letting you off the hook AND paying you to do something I would definitely rather see done myself." She was being too playful considering their situation, she knew that. It wasn't her fault Zevran reminded her of a fox kit. He matched her hyper attitude though, and she was definitely softening up on him.

"Well, can we at least discuss an offer I have for you?"

"Alright, better make it good, elfie." She was squatting next to him to get closer to his level. He was propped up on one elbow with his bound hands resting on the ground. He looked like he was posing for a spicy Antivan painting.

"You see, I am in no way loyal to Loghain now that I have failed my mission, sadly. If you were to release me, for which I would be very grateful, I would return to the Crows and they would kill me for failing. So I would be willing to swear an oath of loyalty to you and serve you until you wish to release me. How does that sound?"

"Serve me like bring me tea, keep me warm and entertained on a cold night, or fight with me?"

"All of the above!" Zevran was enthusiastic, she had to give him that. He was quick to laugh and had a rich laugh that was contagious. "Especially the part about keeping you warm, mia bella. And might I say that I like the way you think! But what I think you would find most useful is my combat. It is clear that you are a better fighter than me, but having my blades at your side would be advantageous, no?"

Shiva considered his offer. He would be fun to have around, but not remotely trustworthy. Though he didn't really have any decent options about what he would do after, he would most likely try to finish the job later. The Crows would still kill him upon his return. Payment wasn't going to happen. But on the plus side, he isn't loyal to Loghain, so if he saw that the grass was greener on their side...

"But how loyal are you to the Crows and your contracts?"

"I happen to be a very loyal person up until the point where they threaten to kill me for failing, so the Crows at this point? I can take them or leave them. Actually no, I will leave them if you decide not to kill me." His cheery front was faltering, seeing how much trouble Shiva was having with the decision – meaning he wasn't being convincing enough.

"What other skills do you have?"

"I have excelled in stealth, poison making, and picking locks! I also know many good jokes."

Shiva turned to her companions. "Thoughts?"

Leliana chirped first. "I would welcome an Antivan Crow to our midst."

Morrigan was unreadable as far as whether or not they should recruit him. She simply gave advice for if they did. "I would suggest checking our food quite closely after this point."

Sten grunted. Shale shrugged. Loki was sniffing at Zevran now, their noses an inch away from each other. Zevran was sniffing the dog back, which the dog found confusing.

"Wait, whoa whoa!" Alistair was waving his hands as if shooing a bird. "You want to take the assassin with us now? Isn't that beyond crazy?"

Shiva shrugged. "He's in it to survive and his best chances are with is. Getting paid is a bonus, and he'll be able to share the loot. We've found plenty of treasure and we haven't even been anywhere interesting yet. Sound good?"

Alistair mumbled agreement and Zevran perked back up at the mention of loot. "Getting richer off of adventures is a marvelous bonus!"

Shiva cut Zevran's bindings and offered her hand to help him stand. "You will not regret this, Grey Wardens! From this point forward, I vow to serve you until you choose to release me. This I swear." He delivered a curt bow.

Shiva turned and gestured that it was time to continue. She stayed in the back to walk beside Zevran. "You're aware that we will probably have to confront Loghain one day. It may be on the battlefield, but if it is in a more political setting, that would be pretty awkward for you, I imagine."

Zevran hummed while he imagined the situation. "Not too bad, I don't think. I've been in more awkward situations."

"You'll have to tell me sometime! That and all the other Crow secrets you know." Shiva winked playfully at him. She already knew a great deal. One of her crew used to be an Antivan Crow, and he knew he was safe under her so he had told her much of what they were all about.

"Oh, I don't know about that! You may have to tie me up and torture me to get my secrets out." The amount of bawdiness in his tone was as thick as his accent. Maybe his accent was just that seductive, who knew.

"Don't tempt me – I'm terrible at torture. Most of my sessions got too bloody for the prisoner to survive." Which was true. The amount of times she 'accidentally' killed someone in her cabin on the ship was more than she could count. Eventually, Aidan had to take over and she would stand back asking her questions.

After giving him a pat on the back, Shiva jogged to the head of the group. The Circle tower was close enough to be seen over the fog that had accumulated below it.


	13. These Dreams

Borrowed Time, Ch 13 – These Dreams

AN: I always thought they could have done better with the Warden's dream. It should have been something more personal, something related to their origin. I say that, yet I didn't make my version like that either. Oh well.

* * *

Shiva, Alistair, Zevran, and Sten approached the small dock where a templar stood by the rowboat. The others had gone to the Spoiled Princess for gossip. Shiva figured it would be a bad idea to bring an apostate with her, or another stuffy chantry girl. The mages within would probably want to poke and prod Shale for study. Loki was so busy trying to get into Morrigan's satchel of herbs he followed without seeing them split up.

The templar at the dock was a real pest. "Why would anyone lie about being a Grey Warden, that doesn't make any sense!" Shiva crossed her arms after waving them while she fussed at the mage. In her mind, she felt it adequately expressed how stupid the templar was. She imagined if Shale was there he would probably clobber her for flapping like a bird.

"I don't know. Why are you lying about being a Grey Warden?" Shiva face palmed. This was getting her nowhere. Time to change tactics. She stared at the templar. He stared right back with his little eyes that were sunken into his oversized head. Every time she would enter a staring contest, Shiva would slowly start grinning. She couldn't help it. Then the wheels in her head would start turning. The scheming started.

"Hey sweetheart. Why you lookin' like you wanna eat me up?" Even if he was handsome, his nasal voice irritated her. She grinned at her own idea even more.

"I'm just wondering if with all that armor you'd sink like a rock in that lake."

The templar frowned. "I'd rather you not try 'n find out." Shiva walked toward him, placing both hands on his chest plate. She started pushing him hard enough to make him stumble backwards. When he got better footing, his boots were still sliding against the dock and he was getting closer to the water. Shiva was giggling. "Oi! Sweetie, don't be a bad girl! Imma put you over my knee. Hey hey! Alright! You want to get in the tower that bad, I'll take ya! Maker, you're strong for a woman."

There was one thing Shiva liked about templars - they're true to their words. After they all climbed into the boat, he rowed them across. She still wanted to knock him over the edge though. She turned to her companions mouthing, "Should I?"

Zevran nodded, trying to stifle his snickering with one hand. Alistair was biting his lip to keep a straight face and shaking his head. Sten was frowning. His opinion didn't count though. Shiva was sitting closest to the templar. She had her hands up, trying to figure out how to do it. She felt arms wrap around her from behind. Turning to see who held her, she saw Alistair right against her. "Behave!" His mouth was close enough to her ear for her to hear his whisper.

"As you command, my prince. But only if you keep hugging me!" Her whisper was less subtle. The templar squirmed and fussed about them acting so suspiciously. Alistair kept his arms around her; the tightness of his grip loosened into a hug. She was leaning against his chest for a few moments before she felt him tense.

"This isn't… inappropriate, is it? I mean I wouldn't want Leliana thinking… Not that I know about anything between you two, of course." He was starting to pull back when she grabbed his arms and kept them in place.

"No, there's nothing wrong. If I was in your lap and you were 'poking' me, maybe." He sighed behind her, dropping his head on her shoulder to hide the blush. "And you heard us last night, hmm?"

He nodded against her shoulder.

"Did it turn you on?"

"Maker's breath, woman!" He did the same awkward man giggle he did when she met him. She took that as a yes.

"What is this about being turned on by something that happened last night?" Apparently they had hooked Zevran with the gossip. Shiva dismissed the subject for now since they reached the tower. Zevran would have to remain curious.

* * *

The annoying templar guard dog shooed them toward the door, most likely not wanting to be reprimanded for disobeying orders by letting them in. Inside, the Knight-Commander was ordering the handful of templars scurrying around the room, doing what looked like a whole lot of nothing. He spotted the visitors and eyed them with surprise and mistrust.

"Who are you? I specifically said no one was allowed to enter!"

"You probably shouldn't have put the village idiot out there, if that is the case." The Knight-Commander huffed in both offense and agreement. "We are Grey Wardens seeking aid from the mages. There's a Blight going on, in case you weren't aware – and most people are acting like they aren't. There was also an incident in Redcliff. There's a possessed child that has been contained, if you can call it that. We cannot simply kill him since he is a nobleman's only heir." Her eyes darted around the room as she explained. She saw a groaning templar lying in the corner. The others seemed disturbed by something. "What's the problem? I didn't expect things to be so disorganized." Shiva figured it was probably a spell gone wrong – big time wrong. As in charred templars wrong.

"Blood mages have revolted. Abominations are running rampant in there and we are unable to communicate with anyone. There are likely no survivors. The First Enchanter did not come out before we barred the doors. You will find no mages here."

"'Likely no survivors'" Shiva quoted. "You don't sound too sure. We just came from a castle full of demons. Perhaps we could help, in exchange for your alliance in case no mages remain, as you seem to believe."

The Knight-Commander was a prickly old bastard. He snapped at them once again. "I am tired of Grey Wardens coming here with their constant need for recruits. But if you do manage to clear the tower and there are no mages, the templars of Ferelden will be free to aid you. You must know that once you enter we will bar the doors behind you, and will only open them for the First Enchanter."

_So if he's dead, we'll just have to jump out of a window and try to fly away. Brilliant. _

"Very well. Are there at least some supplies you could spare since we'll be doing your job for you?" Shiva matched his sour attitude. She was getting tired of everyone having their own issues all of a sudden. It almost seemed choreographed.

_Who cares if the old codger gets offended. That is exactly what is happening, anyway. _

There was a quartermaster near the injured templar. The quartermaster seemed thoroughly spooked. He sold a magical belt to them. It was expensive, but it was similar to what elven keepers would have crafted for them. Hopefully it would give them a slight edge. She handed it to Zevran.

"Here. Since I so easily kicked your butt, you need it more than I do." He quickly recognized her manner of cruel jokes. Taking minimal offence, he discarded his plain leather belt and put the one he was given on. It was actually a pretty good deal. He hadn't entered a battle since joining them and she was already handing him free stuff.

Shiva and the others were on the other side of the door, listening to the sliding of the bar back into place on the other side. The first hallway was clear. The rooms to their right were the two sleeping areas. They quickly rummaged through, looking for any magical items that had been discarded. They didn't find much in here, only a few charms and amulets with minimal effects.

The next room had several apprentices gathered and a few full fledged mages. At the head of the group was Wynne. The mages were all afraid. Shiva held up her hands to put them at ease. "Wynne, right? You and I met at Ostagar."

Wynne was facing away from them when they entered. She had erected a magical barrier and was trying to keep it up. When she was addressed by Shiva, she turned quickly, ready to cast a spell in case they were templars with the Right of Annulment. She relaxed a little when she saw Shiva's posture.

"Yes, Shiva. I remember you. Why are you here? I thought the templars wouldn't let anyone through. Have they abandoned us?" The elderly mage was all business.

"Sort of. We're doing the job for them. We have to clear the abominations and find the First Enchanter. The Knight-Commander said he would open the door only for him." Alistair spoke up. If they could tell he was a templar, he probably needed to give a good first impression. Shiva found the mages and templars fought like cats and dogs. And they were all under one roof! That's just cruel.

"Then I suggest we go find him. I will go with you." Wynne turned to a mage beside her and ordered her to watch the others. Wynne walked to the magical barrier without waiting for the others.

Sten blocked Shiva from following her. "We should kill them."

Shiva started in surprise. "Why?"

"One cannot tell if they are lying or not. They are too dangerous to be allowed to live." The reason may have been good enough for him, but one thing Shiva was completely unwilling to do was slaughter a room full of children.

"No. They need us." Sten was a man of few words so he would have to accept that answer. Shiva stepped around Sten and joined Wynne by the barrier. The others followed her.

"Are you ready? I cannot say what will come through once I take it down." Wynne seemed nervous, probably because the home she knew her entire adult life – which was a long time considering her age – was being overrun by their worst case scenario. Shiva nodded.

"We need to be quick about this. Let's go."

Alistair raised his hand like a schoolboy. "Um, caution is good too, ya know." Wynne was already dispelling the barrier. It faded with a high-pitched hum. Shiva and Wynne stepped through first, side by side.

The next several floors had demons everywhere. Nearly every turn would leave them face to face with another abomination. They would swim toward them, bringing a cold shadow that oppressed the party, but they did not waver. On the second floor they encountered blood mages. Some begged for mercy, apologized and explained that this was not what they wanted. Shiva only had enough mercy for the room full of apprentices downstairs. She coldly decapitated the wailing mages that had caused this mess.

She took the opportunity to observe how Zevran battled. He was more skilled than she thought he was, and well composed under the circumstances. As they neared the stairs to the third floor, Shiva turned to everyone, still walking, and asked how they were holding up. Wynne and Alistair acknowledged her question with somber looks.

Sten gave his usual grunt. He thought better of it and elaborated, for once. "This is a waste of time. We should have left this place when we heard they were in such a state." Shiva rolled her eyes.

"If we get allegiance from either the mages or the templars it won't be for nothing. I would have thought a qunari would know what it means to earn allegiance through battle."

"Battling demons will not make them join us." She wondered if the qunari were all such a smart-assed bunch or just painfully ignorant and backwards.

Shiva was gritting her teeth. Each time she had to spell things out for Sten, she got more exasperated. "No, but no one here will be able to use them as an excuse to do as they will and they will owe us." She turned on Sten, who was walking directly behind her, so fast he almost bumped into her. She braced for it – it would be difficult to keep on her feet when his solid mass would ram right into her. It would also make her position less assertive if she had her ass on the floor. The height difference was enough to make her seem insignificant, but she took her stand anyway. Looking directly into his eyes, she growled, "Any more concerns?" She knew challenging any other party member would make them bow their heads or go on the defensive – except Morrigan. With Sten, she knew it would continue to escalate until she could prove herself and leave him without any further doubts. She would let him set the pace though. It was him struggling to accept what they had to do, not her.

Sten returned her glare. "No."

Wasting no more time, she swiveled around on her heel and caught up to the mage and templar. When she passed Zevran, she looked at him with her same question from earlier in mind, hoping she wouldn't have to ask again and could continue to stew in her ire. Thankfully he was good at understanding her.

"I find that demons aren't so bad to kill. They bleed on me less, since it is all coagulated and black. I find that very considerate of them."

She was quickly cheered up by his response. "That's the spirit." She had to agree with him, as well. Demons had scared her as a child, but her mind had come up with worse. As with darkspawn, it was an enemy that was powerful, but when demons were not manipulating and simply fighting, she found they weren't so fearsome. Of course, they were dealing with fledglings at that level.

They started running into enthralled templars. They were more difficult since they had heavy armor and sturdy weapons and shields. Wynne had more trouble with them, finding herself constantly drained. Shiva stepped between her and any templar that went after her, quickly dispatching them. In the center of the enthralled templars, a demon unlike the others stood – no doubt being the one in charge of the small group of them.

It had the form of a woman and with natural skin she would have been beautiful, instead it had a grey and purple tinge that reminded Shiva of a bloated corpse. Her lips and body were voluptuous, but her eyes, and forearms were reptilian. She had a long, scaly tail like a rat and ram horns. It would cast ice spells, so Wynne instantly attacked with fireballs.

They were far stronger than the other demons they came across so far, but were still no match. The next demon they saw, however, was going to be a challenge. It was deformed like the abominations. It wore bloody, thick robes that had torn with boil covered, expanded flesh. Its face had the texture of melted skin that covered one eye and nearly shut the other. Shiva had a bad feeling when it started to converse with them. She feared their words more than their claws.

"Visitors? Why don't you stay and rest a while?" A weight slowly accumulated on Shiva's shoulders, threatening to crush her. She stood against it best she could, but she found herself so unwilling to raise her sword, despite how ridiculous she knew the suggestion was.

Behind her, Wynne was urging. "Resist! You must resist…"

She couldn't hear any words beyond that. The hideous face before her was swallowed in black.

* * *

_Captain Shiva, 9:27 Dragon_

_I have a theory about the fade. I came up with it when I was talking Cedric one day. He said that he, and several other mages he knew, wished they dreamt like everyone else. When they'd hear about other people's dreams, the settings would be varied and fantastic. Dark forests, beaches, large open fields. Most mages only dreamt of an ominous orange and red sky, dirt roads, random objects that were somehow suspended around the room. _

_They were more aware of the fade realm. Perhaps they saw it for what it truly was. Their minds were too well trained to be fooled by weak perception. They would feel the same sense of confusion, but other than that it sounded nothing like everyone else's dreams._

_What would it be like to enter someone else's dream? To be part of a foreign realm completely manipulated by someone else's mind? Will anyone ever know?_

Shiva opened her eyes, finding she was lying in dirt. She sky above her was an unnatural orange. When she sat up, she recognized Ostagar. Two rows of pillars lined the path to a large stone ramp, where Duncan stood with his back to her. His hands were clasped behind his back and his posture was relaxed. She had never seen him so at ease. Shiva stood and approached him. He stood over a low, long table and on the opposite side, Loghain and Cailan. There was a map rolled out on the table before them. Loghain stared at it and Cailan glanced at it every now and then. The three men were conversing about trivial matters.

"That book that was released last year, the one with the lustful maid. What was it…" Duncan scratched at his beard, thinking. Shiva remembered seeing him like that before. It was hard not to stare at him. She felt like she had not seen him in a long time.

"The Lusty Antivan Maid by Vicente Valtieri." Loghain read dirty books, apparently. He had no trouble remembering that one.

"Oh, I didn't read that one!" Cailan bounced on his heel, looking at the sky as if the pages would fall into his hands from there.

"You can't read." Loghain rattled it off like it was common knowledge. Cailan seemed to have forgotten until his father-in-law reminded him. After thinking for a moment, Cailan pouted since it was apparently true. Shiva tried to stifle a giggle as she pictured Loghain reclining in his study, reading while taking his enjoyment in his hand and Cailan over his shoulder, trying to make sense of the small words on the page.

At Shiva's cackle, Loghain glared at her. "You couldn't handle the book, young lady. Cover your ears."

"If you only knew, General." She winked at him, earning a raised brow from him. He seemed intrigued.

Shiva was wondering what was wrong with this scene.

_Wait, am I dreaming? Damn, this would have been fun to live through. Oh wait! I can have sex with them! _

Duncan spoke up beside her. "Shiva, when did you get here? Did you enjoy your holiday?"

"Not as much as I'm about to enjoy you three," she blurted. It was a dream, after all. Who needed tact?

She tried to ignore the bad feeling she got as Duncan chuckled and pulled her close to him. She leaned up to kiss him before she remembered one thing. Demons. She stilled where she was. Duncan was hovering close enough to her face for his mustache to be tickling her lips.

_Well, shit. _

With the desire demons from earlier, she knew it was a bad idea going through with this, especially considering how insatiable she was when she got started in normal situations. She tried pulling away from the already aroused Duncan, giving a parting hip rub against his erection as a final tease. It occurred to her after that she was only teasing herself. Duncan would not let her go far. His look was severe. Shiva looked at the other men. Loghain's hopeful look was replaced with the same sour grimace he gave her at Ostagar – the real Ostagar. Cailan was beginning to rot before her eyes.

She was shocked by his change. She had forgotten he was dead, as was Duncan. Loghain drew his sword and started coming around the table. Duncan held her with one arm, while drawing his blade from the other. When he did, the strap that was tied around him fell loose, and Ser Jory's head rolled to his hip like a satchel.

Shiva kneed him and spun out of his grasp to get away. She drew her sword and dagger, still backing up until she bumped into a stinking mass behind her, which was probably Cailan. She turned to see half of his face had rotted off almost completely. Locks of his hair had fallen out, leaving a large bald patch over his right ear. His lips were shriveled and blue, drawn back to reveal his teeth set in blackened gums. His cheek had been eaten away as well, so it was open. On her other side, Shiva heard a grunt. Duncan was swinging his sword in a wide arc behind her. She bent at the hip, leaning forward so she was bent over the table. She felt something drop on her back and quickly moved. It was Cailan's head – Duncan had decapitated him instead of her. The confused and mummified Duncan looked from the head on the ground, to his sword and then to Shiva. His brain was slowly piecing what happened together. Shiva lunged before he took another swift action and pierced him through the chest. With a twist, she pulled her sword back and let Duncan fall.

"Sorry boys, I don't do dead guys."

"And what about me?" Shiva faced Loghain, bringing up her sword in time to block his strike. She pushed against their crossed blades and easily had him going backwards. There was no way he was that weak in real life. Whatever demon was role-playing as Loghain was slow. For the rest of the fight, her mind was on other matters. She wondered whether Duncan or Loghain would have won in a fight against each other. Too bad she didn't think of that before she killed them. It was also a shame she couldn't have exerted her will enough to mentally strip them naked. But since this was a nightmare, she would have probably been disappointed when she saw a smooth, flat valley of nothing where their buried treasure should have been.

When she focused on her surroundings again, Loghain was lying in a pool of blood. Before her appeared an ebony pedestal with a blue pool of ectoplasm within.

_When in doubt, touch it. _

The blue essence that hovered around her hand burned. She tried to shake it off, but it covered her whole body, blinding her in the process. When the light faded, she found herself in another place. She could feel darkspawn nearby.

It was a maze. There was fire and gore everywhere. She couldn't tell whether or not she was going in circles. There were enemies slowing her progress. She needed to find someone else, any of her allies.

She went through several different locations, linked by the same pedestal. She wondered how long she would be stuck here, fighting. At last, she was brought to a small island where there were no enemies. The warden stepped forward cautiously anyway, and stopped dead in her tracks when she heard a shout.

Around the next bend, she saw Zevran tied to a rack with two elves standing over him. She casually walked up to the group and leaned on the table like it was a bar. She was over Zevran's shoulder. The poor elf was sweating and in a considerable amount of pain.

"Rise and shine, handsome. Time to go." The elves standing over Zevran tensed, recognizing someone who was lucid.

"No…" Zevran groaned. "I must stay strong so I can become a Crow." He banged his head on the rack he was laying on. Something to distract him, no doubt.

"You're already a Crow, genius! You were hired by Teyrn Loghain to kill me, remember? I won, by the way. Just in case you forgot that too." One of the Crows drew his arrow and aimed at Shiva, but she took her dagger and sliced his arm. "Alright, up you go." She cut the ropes that bound his arms and legs. He was still struggling to remember, but he recognized that the Crows were trying to kill them, so he drew his daggers and helped her fight them. Zevran was still trying to make sense of everything after the battle. He faded out of sight before she could explain.

Alistair's nightmare was trickier. He dreamt of Duncan as well so she could not simply walk up and slay the demon. But he understood the creature that stood before him wasn't Duncan when he attacked the wardens. Alistair sheepishly admitted he had been fooled before he faded, just as Zevran did.

Wynne nearly attacked Shiva. She thought a mage would be more aware of the fade, but it would seem the old woman was half senile. The demonic apprentices proved Shiva right, and Wynne joined the others, wherever they went.

She followed them to an island that was much like an arena. The demon of sloth appeared once more and Shiva drew her weapons. She was alarmed by how susceptible she was to sloth, after everything she defeated in her tumultuous life. What saved her was her preference for reality over a dream, even one that she could turn into an orgy.

That demon had much more fight than the others. Each form, when defeated, would release energy that knocked everyone back. It was five enemies in one and Shiva was worried they would never reach that cat's final life.

When the demon was slain for good, they all began to wake. "Everyone alright?" Shiva was struggling to stand. From where Wynne was laying, she chanted a few lines and cast a rejuvenation spell on all of them.

The pirate, finally regaining energy, helped the mage to her feet. "Wynne, I could kiss you."

The elder mage tsk-ed her, "Don't threaten me, young lady." They laughed, as did Alistair and Zevran. But their amusement died down quickly as they took in the corruption of the room and remembered they had more to do. As they continued, they walked right up to a large drake. It took all four of them by each limb to kill it. Wynne and Zevran stayed by its hind legs and the wardens stood before it, dodging snapping jaws and reaching claws.

"You know, I'll bet we can find a smith that can make armor out of its hide. Perhaps we should take what we can carry of its scales," Zevran suggested. They took some time separating its skin, so much that Wynne started pacing toward the next door, reluctant to see what was farther in but unwilling to wait longer. Zevran was the one to carry the rolled up scales. They entered the next room to see a mage cowering before a templar.

"Forgive me if I strike one whose heart is true but I cannot take the chance of letting a blood mage free!" The templar had his sword raised high, ready to kill the old mage below him.

"Irving!" Wynne shouted to the mage and cast a paralyze spell on the templar. The old mage scurried away from the stilled body and limped toward them.

"Thank Andraste you came when you did. I have defeated Uldred. He led the blood mages' revolt but they have all perished." The First Enchanter croaked his words at a snail's pace. At least that meant they were done here. "Help me talk templar Cullen down. This tower has seen enough bloodshed."

Shiva turned to her own templar. "Alistair?"

"On it." He didn't need to be told twice. He was as ready to leave the tower since the matter was resolved. He guarded Cullen while the others went back to report to the Knight-Commander.

Shiva was walking out of the Spoiled Princess Inn. Gregoir had let them leave after returning Irving safe and sound. Irving promised to send mages when the armies were called upon and to travel to Redcliff as soon as he could to help Connor. Wynne was to accompany Shiva, much to Morrigan's displeasure. The witch finally came around once she was reminded the benefits of having a healer among them, since her own spells in that field were weak.

The wardens and their group of misfits traveled back to Redcliff to see if the castle still stood around the poisoned Arl and his possessed son.


	14. Family Feud

The return trip to Redcliff took less time. They arrived the following evening and the mages were a day behind. Morrigan was to enter the Fade. For Shiva, it was just a waiting game. During that time, Teagan and Shiva discussed Jowan.

"If your wish is to wait for Eamon to decide, he will wake with another task to complete. If we deal with him, that is less he will have to be concerned about, if he awakens." Teagan agreed with her. Jowan was to be held under the charges of an assassination attempt and would be executed.

Isolde was wringing her hands in the corner. "The mages – they will take Connor after this."

Shiva leaned on the wall to address the woman that sat behind her. "What else is new? You act as if you're the first to experience this. If you wish to prolong his stay, invite the mages to remain. Say your husband needs better supervision than whatever mage is here now. They may have Connor stay as well. It's not like the tower is in any shape for a quick return."

Teagan cocked his head at her. "What do you mean? What has happened at the tower?"

Shiva opened her mouth to begin the tale, but a voice from the hall caught their attention. "Mother!" Isolde whipped her head around in time to see Connor hop in her lap. She hugged the child tight, babbling and kissing his face. "Mother, that's embarrassing!" He noticed the stranger in the room, apparently not recognizing Shiva from his earlier state. He shrunk back shyly.

"I'll leave you three to your reunion." Shiva met Morrigan in the hall. Remembering her own trip to the fade to confront a demon, she understood the weariness she saw in the wilds woman, who did her best to hide it. "Morrigan, are you well?"

"Yes, yes, the child is free of the demon." Morrigan's eyes darted to the side as she spoke. She must have been exhausted or preoccupied to let such a telltale sign of lying slip.

"Such a shame. I had hoped you'd at least learn a trick or two from it before slaying it. But wait, you did not say you killed it." Upon close inspection, Shiva could see the surprise flash across Morrigan's face. Like lightning, it was gone in an instant.

"Explain the tricks you speak of. Elaborate." She was clearly feeling out the pirate's reaction to what she had truly done.

"Surely I don't need to spell out how a mage learns blood magic. Or did your mother teach you already?"

"She did not teach me blood magic, exactly. Nothing that could be of use. Say I did strike a deal with the demon in exchange for knowledge. What then?" Beside her, Morrigan's fingers toyed with a belt on her skirt - perhaps in an attempt to remain nonchalant.

Shaking her head, the warden waved in mild exasperation. "Enough with the euphemisms. Did you by chance learn blood magic or no? If you have, we shall only speak of it to each other. I would be interested in learning more about it from a blood mage. No one else would share this interest, I daresay."

"I concur. Not the templar, the old circle mage, or even Sten." Morrigan was looking away, deciding. Amber eyes met blue ones. "Yes, I was educated by the demon when in the fade. Also, if you wish to know, the boy is free of the demon – for now. That was the price. Years from now, he will be of no use to us, the demon will reclaim him." The witch expected shock but received none. Shiva simply nodded slowly.

"Just don't borrow my blood for your spells, okay? Not without my consent, at least."

"As you wish. I must say I am impressed with your opinion. Tis far better than I would expect."

"Speak no more of it, leech. Come, let's find the kitchens. We can roost in there like a couple fat hens and peck anyone who enters." The girls set out for the castle's food supply.

* * *

After eating and parting with Morrigan to let the witch have her nap, Shiva perused the books in the Arl's study. Many of them were about Orlais – Knights of Orlais, Legends and Ballads of Orlais, Geography of Orlais. She imagined the Arl and Teyrn Loghain were not very close friends.

Steps in the hall kept nearing and never turned as Shiva hoped they would. She was in no mood for idle chatter.

"I've been looking for you." Alistair's voice made her change her mind. She still had mixed feelings for him. He was handsome, strong, honorable, and kind. Too kind. Half of his dumb act was just that – an act. It was part of his personality. A tool to make others underestimate him, like Morrigan and Sten. His indecisiveness was genuine. There was no trace of what had seeded that within him. He had yet to take a real stand for anything. One day he would put his foot down, but for what?

"I was talking to Teagan and Isolde just now," he began. "I think something they said should be our next move." They sat in two chairs that were along the wall. "We really need Arl Eamon well for his allegiance, right? So Isolde mentioned a scholar that was searching for the Urn of Sacred Ashes - Andraste's Ashes. He lives in Denerim."

"Denerim." Shiva ran her hands through her hair as she thought. "We could do that. It would also be a good place to go for supplies. There's a skilled blacksmith there, perhaps he could do something with those drake scales we got from the tower." She knew one of the men that worked there. The two of them had never gotten along – he was suspicious when she moved in with his father. But that was the last thing she wanted to remember.

"Yeah! There's one other thing that's there. Something personal. Someone I want to look up." He had that sheepish, hesitant tone again. She waited for him to continue. "You see, I have a sister. I don't think she knows about me. I've never met her. I just know her name is Goldanna."

Shiva couldn't think of any reason for him not to see her. As far as she knew, he was alone. Family could be just what he needed. "I don't see why not. When we get there, you can see her. We'll most likely spend a day or two there."

After her heavy meal, Shiva found herself growing tired quickly. Alistair said goodbye and left her after a few more minutes of chatting. He was to inform Isolde and Teagan that they would leave tomorrow. She got up to share the plan with the rest of her companions.

* * *

Days later they arrived at Denerim. Shiva split everyone up. Sten, Leliana and Sten would go to the smithy and speak to Master Wade about making drake scale armor. Wynne, Morrigan, and Shale went to the Wonders of Thedas, which left Alistair and Shiva to meet Goldanna.

"Shall I wait out here?" Shiva could see how nervous the poor boy was. Even Loki licked his fingers and gave him a sympathetic whine.

"Nah, come in with me. It's hot out here." It wasn't, but she wasn't going to give him a hard time about it. There were three or four children running around the house, eyeing them with wonder. One boy squatted to play with Loki.

The wardens went inside, Shiva walking behind Alistair and giving his arm a gentle squeeze for support. "Um, hello?"

A woman walked up talking as fast as a bird could fly. "Ey? You have linens to wash? It's five bits a load."

Alistair shuffled his feet and swallowed. "I'm not here to have any wash done, heh. I was looking for you, actually. I'm Alistair. This may sound strange but your mother worked at the castle right? As a servant? Well, our mother. I'm your brother."

"My wha? Oh, it's you! They told me you was dead!" She sounded far from pleased to see him.

"Who told you that?"

"Thems at the castle! You killed mother, you did! And they told me you was dead. Paid me three bits to keep me mouth shut. Tricked me well, they did." With every uttered word she spouted bitterness and ignorance of basic grammar.

"No, I'm not dead, no. They sent me to Redcliff. I didn't kill mother! I can't even remember-"

"Don't lie to me, boy." Goldanna was spitting her words and Shiva was ready to spit coals. Her eyes were narrowed at the shrew and her shoulders raised. She plunged a dagger in someone's throat for less disrespect than that bitch was showing. Several some ones. "Your grabby father forced himself on my mum. Then you happened. You ruined everything for me. Now look. You want family? Fine, be a good brother and help me with some decent coin so I can feed my five kids." She gestured at her shithole of a house.

_Serves you right._

Shiva was literally biting her tongue. A sidelong glance to see Alistair's hurt astonishment was the last straw. "He is not to blame for your misfortunes. Your insignificance is." Shiva was perfectly capable of matching her venom, but for Alistair's sake, she would work up to it. Even Loki stood between the wardens with his ears back and muzzle twitching into a snarl.

"And who in the Maker's name are you? Some strumpet after his riches, no doubt."

"The only one after his gold is you, worthless hag!" Had a table not been between them, Shiva would have launched herself at Goldanna. Said worthless hag erupted into a yell.

"Whoa whoa," his hand shot out to block Shiva from stepping forward more than she did. His look urged her not to make things worse so with her last bit of self-restraint, she didn't fly across the room and choke her. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I came." There was a moment of near silence with the hound's growl rolling steadily. If Shiva had her way right then, she'd burn the whole damn house. Alistair would have been better off in an Alienage orphanage than there with spite personified

"I don't know why you came either." Shiva tapped Loki's foot to get his attention, then gave him a sly wink. As the wardens turned to leave, Goldanna's yelling started up again. She was stomping toward Loki, who was happily pissing in the corner. All this was missed by Alistair who was already out the door. Shiva patted her thigh to her loyal hound.

"Come on, boy! Oh, you are such a good boy. Show that cow who's boss. Let's go boy." Shiva's smile slid away when she saw Alistair standing so forlorn outside, near the market. She slowly approached him and linked her arm through his.

"That was… Not what I expected at all. I can't believe that gold digging shrew is my sister. I was expecting her to accept me. Isn't that what family does?" He seemed like he was four years old, experiencing his first world shattering news. 'Dog died. Cat too – it choked on the goldfish, which is dead as well…'

"Listen here," Shiva turned him to face her. "Forget about her. Being exposed to such bitterness would have destroyed you – not to mention the hundred other faults she revealed in such little time."

He nodded. "I know, it's just… I thought I was going to have a family."

"She's a fool," Shiva said quietly, more to herself than him. She put her hand under his chin to make him look her in the eye. "I would give anything to have you as my brother." She found that it was the truth. It was soon after meeting him that she realized any romance between them would have ended quite soon. They fit much better as a family.

"I am your brother. We share the taint, right? Same blood." He was slowly cheering up. Knowing he wasn't alone made all the difference. There was someone who cared. Duncan had become a father figure easily. He fell into the role of a surrogate family member, just as Shiva did.

"Come on. Let's see what the others are up to. We spend tonight at the Gnawed Noble. We could all use a drink and a decent bed." Those that had gone to the smithy had already gathered at the meeting place, the corner outside the Gnawed Noble, which was across the scholar's house. Before Shiva, Alistair and Loki caught up, the rest had joined them.

The mages had bought themselves some useful magical trinkets and Shiva was going to take Leliana, Sten, and Loki to Genitivi's house. The rest would wait inside the Gnawed Noble.

* * *

No Genitivi. The four that were to meet him returned to the Gnawed Noble with another lead. The impostor inside was lying dead, along with the apprentice whose role he was assuming.

They sat at a long table with the rest and ordered a meal and a round of drinks. As their evening went on, they were able to relax. Zevran spoke of his assassinations – the successful ones – and joked throughout. Leliana stole glances at Shiva, hinting at what she wanted to happen once they returned to their rooms. Sten almost smiled – it was that good an evening. Late at night, everyone turned in. Boys and golem in one room, girls and dog in the other.

In the morning, everyone lazed around their rooms. Morrigan had little warning before Shiva and Leliana finally got frisky. Morrigan was still lying on the divan, covering her head with a pillow to drown out the noise coming from the girls in bed. Leliana's squeals could run through any pillow she held against her ear. She was thankful at least the pirate was a quiet lover.

At breakfast, the wardens discussed where they should go from there. "I think we've been making slow progress." Shiva removed her hanging hair from the empty plate she was leaning over as she spoke.

"Really? We've been going pretty fast from what I can tell." It was hard to understand Alistair through the bread and cheese he stuffed in his mouth.

"We've been on the move constantly, but what do we have to show for it? We have the mages alliance and a few oddballs lending a hand. We have yet to contact the Dalish clans and Orzammar's king. I figured something out, Orzammar would have to wait though."

"What do you suggest?"

"From south of here we split up. You take the Dalish and I head to Haven, which is on the complete opposite side of Ferelden, so we meet at Redcliff after we have our business done. We cure Eamon, then see what he says." This was the perfect part for 'what could go wrong?' Alistair couldn't think of what could. He nodded.

"Sounds like a good plan. How do we split this up? I'm not taking the assassin!" He raised his hand for his anti-vote.

"But he's an elf, the Dalish would-"

He was shaking his head adamantly. "Don't care."

"Fine. I'll take Zevran, Morrigan, Loki, and Shale. You take Wynne, Sten, and Leliana."

It was nearly noon before they left Denerim. They would return sometime after a week to get their armor, but other than that, they didn't know when they'd have to return to the capital city. They headed south together, until Shiva and her group veered west to go to Haven, leaving Alistair and the rest to deal with the Dalish.


	15. Speak of the Devil

Borrowed Time, Ch 15 – Speak of the Devil

AN: Yay, I get to switch POV's again. I find this one easier to do. Addin' a lil post-Ostagar angst to it, but not heavy. It may build though.

* * *

Shiva realized she didn't spend enough time talking to Shale. The rock was most amusing. It would often ponder about humans – how they have survived, why they did such curious things, why they were so gross, and so on. Shiva decided to address one of those points one night at camp.

"Well, you see, we meat bags have an uncanny ability to slither out of a fatal situation." She tossed her hair smugly.

Shale's eyebrow pebbles rose. "Ah, cowering has indeed gained popularity among little annoying squishy beings, it seems." To that response, Shiva feigned indignation.

"Cowering? We prefer the term 'tactical elusion,' thank-you-very-much!"

Being so fluent in sarcasm, Shale replied, "I see. You have clearly opened my eyes to how wrong I was about human mastery of evasion."

"I accept your change of heart, seeing it is so genuine. Here, found this shiny rock. It's less shiny than you are so I assume it's a little brother or sister?" She tosses it to Shale's large stony hand. The small piece of malachite landed with a 'clack.'

Shale looked less than impressed but having the gift not thrown into her eye was a good sign. "I am to keep this, am I? Fine." Mission accomplished, Shiva retired to her tent for the night.

* * *

It had been a while since they crossed bounty hunters. These were more difficult than the previous by far. A mage stood in the back behind several warriors and archers. The odds were slightly tipped in their favor because of Shale.

The village of Haven was abandoned. No sign of life were within or outside the houses. Beyond it was the path Genitivi's journal spoke of. They reached it, finding Tevinter ruins built into the mountain. Just inside the ruins, a frozen corpse lay by the door. It was a man curled in the fetal position. He had suffered an injury to his leg. The pack he had contained more journals, revealing that he was the scholar.

The ruins opened into a large area on the mountain's peak. A high dragon roosted above the entrance to the next part of the temple. The wardens snuck below it. Within the temple were the ashes. They had been untouched, its location known by few, if any. Shiva held no reverence for the occasion, not as Alistair and Leliana would have. She was just glad they were able to return to Redcliff.

* * *

The Ashes' magical powers were no myth. Eamon had been cured and was continuing to regain his strength. Two days had passed since he woke with his body free of poison. The Wardens were glad to be able to relax in the castle.

They gathered in the dining hall three days after he was cured.

"Grey Warden," the Arl began, "I have much to thank you for. You have saved me and my family. You have spent the past months tirelessly rallying armies to oppose the Blight, despite Loghain's forces working against you. Redcliff's knights have been recalled. I know it is not much, but they will be added to your forces. You have more than earned my allegiance. I understand you wish my advice on how to continue."

"Yes, your Grace," Shiva confirmed.

"What I propose is this. We call a Landsmeet. There, the two of you reveal Loghain's crimes at Ostagar and unite the nation once more. Also, Alistair should be put forward as king." Both Wardens gaped at the Arl's final statement. Shiva wondered how that would even work. He would need a damn good advisor – most likely Eamon himself. That would explain why Eamon proposed it.

_That would elevate Isolde's position as well. Ugh. _

"What about me? Does anyone care what I want?" Alistair was understandably shocked and against the idea. Shiva was fond of her fellow warden, but to make him king would be disastrous. It would be Cailan all over again.

"Alistair, this is your duty. What Ferelden needs is a Theirin. With Anora on the throne, Loghain will never see justice for his crimes." Eamon was a smooth talker, Shiva noted. She didn't know what to think about Alistair becoming king. Blood didn't make him competent, especially not as competent as Anora. But he did have a strong sense of justice and honor, and Anora seemed power hungry enough to bend the rules.

"I- … b-but I… Yes, your Grace." The warden's expression was sour. He had little experience being a leader and Shiva couldn't help but remember what Flemeth said.

_He will be a leader in time, assuming he survives. _

Well, Alistair was still alive, assuming he didn't have a larger trial coming he would most likely make it.

"Then it is settled. I will call a Landsmeet. We should head to Denerim. I don't want to give Loghain time to prepare for it." Eamon bowed, turning to his brother to make arrangements. The wardens walked out of the hall to spread the news.

The walk was in silence. Both pirate and templar had their minds racing, on two separate matters. It was Shiva who shared them first. "There's something I've been planning. I want to go to Denerim ahead of the rest of you."

Alistair jumped, seeming as if he missed the first half of what she said by the pause before she got a proper reaction. "What? Why?"

"I need to discuss it with someone else. Just trust me."

"Oh sure, I should trust the creepy sea-thief who is close friends with the evil witch-thief and _really_ close with who is probably an Andrastian chantry-thief." He was trying so desperately to joke himself back into a relative state of calm.

"Don't forget the assassin-thief," she nudged his arm as they walked up the stairs to the guest quarters.

"How could I? Well, do what you must, I guess. You haven't led us astray so far, right?" It was touching how much he trusted her. Also alarming how quick he was to accept some half-assed leadership, considering the position he may have to rise to.

After the rest of the team were informed about their current situation – and each expressed their alarm at learning that Alistair was Maric's illegitimate son – Shiva called Zevran into her chambers for some 'alone time.'

"You just couldn't wait until evening to drag me in here so I can ravish you?" Zevran lewdly chuckled at the image he was conjuring.

"Don't flatter yourself, Antivan. You'll have yet to impress me enough for a touch. I have a more duplicitous idea in mind." Shiva's hands were on her hips and her manner was wily.

"Oh? This I must hear. Do go on, mia bella." The elf sauntered to the bed right next to where she sat. He still had the earlier images in his mind, no doubt.

"First, I must understand what was to happen after you killed me and Alistair. Were you to receive payment directly?" She was playing a game they often did. Their conversations would be laced with suggestive flirtation. Her legs were daintily crossed and her fingers traced figures around his gloved knuckles.

"I was to return to Loghain, he would pay me and I return to the Crows. But since that is not to be, I must wonder why you ask. Surely you trust me by now, my darling warden." His amber eyes filled with false hurt, it did nothing to arouse her guilt but he was rather cute doing it.

"No, my friend. I trust you with my life." He was good at sarcasm, he would pick it up. "How much was he going to pay you, if I may ask?"

"The total price was 250 sovereigns. The down payment of 50 sovereigns has been spent, sadly. When I returned, he would give me 200 and I would give it all to the Crows. I have spent my share." He had placed her hand on his lean thigh and was slowly caressing the back of her neck.

"Two hundred sovereigns." Shiva could taste the sweetness of the large sum of money. Zevran recognized the greed in her eyes since it mirrored his own. The only reason he still considered killing them was the money. At that point, he could have it all to himself. The Crows would no longer let him live. He would have to take a chance either way.

Shiva revealed what was on her mind. Zevran agreed to travel to Denerim with her.

Zevran took her hand in both of his as he stood to leave. He raised her hand to his lips and hovered while his breath ghosted over her knuckles. With a searching look in her eyes, he chastely - much to her surprise - kissed her hand and excused himself with a bow.

_He's getting better at this game. _

She went downstairs to talk to Eamon. He and Bann Teagan were still conversing. She waited patiently before Teagan addressed her. "Warden, is there something that concerns you?"

"No my lord, I simply wish to inform you that one of my companions and I will be leaving for Denerim ahead of you - and if it's not too audacious..." She paused more out of false modesty than actual concern.

"What is it, warden?" Eamon stepped forward, hoping she wasn't coming back to bring ill news.

"It's simply that I must proceed to Denerim with haste."

"Say no more, we have some of the finest horses aside from the stables at the capital. I will inform the stable boy to ready two horses for your departure. They should be ready for you when you come down." Eamon nodded to a nearby servant who was to deliver the message.

"Thank you, my lords." She took a bow and left to pack.

* * *

Shiva was far from a strong rider, but speed was necessary. Zevran rode close with all the grace she lacked. They reached Denerim in two and a half days. The rest of the party wasn't expected for another three.

"You know, that drake scale armor should be ready by now. And we must see about getting you a disguise." Zevran was completely on board with her plan.

"I'll see of there's some sort of cowl in the market." Shiva remembered seeing a woman selling Orlesian silks. Perhaps there was a shawl among her wares.

And there was one – grey with a purple accent. Its colors coincided with the dusty grey armor Wade crafted out of drake scales. The cuirass was formed for Leliana, but Shiva had a similar build. It was lighter than she usually wore and she felt exposed. Her legs just above her knees were visible, as was her neck. It would have to do.

* * *

Loghain was slumped in a grand cedar chair. His haggard appearance clashed with the elegance of the furniture and rest of the room. The past months had been miserable. Since Bann Teagan's accusing query at the Landsmeet, the nobles slowly began to resist him. The civil war was occupying the armies that remained, leaving no adequate force to oppose the darkspawn. Howe was to arrive at any moment with another report.

"Sire, I bring news." The expected nobleman trudged in from the hall and stood before the regent.

_Speak of the devil. _

Loghain gave no verbal acknowledgement. He was as tired of the treacherous lickspittle as he was of the accusations that flooded against him concerning his retreat. Maker, curse that day.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The metal of his gauntlet was cold against his cheek when he cradled his head.

"Yes, um. Well, the fighting, -" Howe paused to take an unceremonious, rasping breath. He shuffled in his spot, which was uncharacteristic of the sly Arl. "-Has gone exactly as you-"

"Enough." Anora's voice rang like a bell through the room. She stepped forward, waving a hand in time with her interruption to silence Howe. "I want to know what you wish to accomplish, father. Should we not be fighting the darkspawn instead of ourselves?" Her hands were stretched out before her as if she were begging. She leaned forward with her head bent to the side. She was usually stiff and upright; she showed such manners only in front of Loghain, especially when she was urging him to speak his mind. He had a habit of stubbornly keeping things to himself.

Loghain raised his head and straightened slightly for his daughter. She was worth his time and one of the few people in the country he could trust – the only one he relished the company of. With the arm propped on the arm of the chair, he gestured as he did only when he was being persuasive. "The nobility should be brought into line and then the darkspawn defeated." His voice was stronger than they expected. He was not using an angry tone, but with the weariness he showed before being addressed by his queen it did not seem as though they would get a civil response. "This is no true Blight, Anora. Only Cailan's vanity demanded it be so." He tried to keep the snide comments about her late husband from Anora, but he realized too late that he let one slip.

"Cailan approached the Orlesians for support, did he not?"

"Never!" The sharp crack of his hand slamming on the wood resounded within the room. Equally sharp was the whipping of his shout. Howe flinched before him. Anora's eyes widened at Loghain's outburst as he leaned forward. One needn't see his muscles under the Chevalier plate to know they were bunched like a panther about to spring. "Maric and I drove those bastards out! We will not roll out the welcome for them now."

"We cannot win this crisis alone." Anora's shoulders rose as she became more indignant. She could no longer make sense of her father's plans, despite his sureness when he spoke them.

"Ferelden will stand on it's own." Loghain lent back, visibly willing himself to calm. "Anora, you must have faith in me."

Her lips were pursed and her eyes narrowed. With words laced with poison, she asked, "Did you kill Cailan?"

Loghain felt as if ice crawled through his veins where there was a heavy, oppressive heat before. His skin stung with the sudden change. A day after she received the news of her husband's death, he had walked into her chambers to discuss his regency. Seeing her mourn shouldn't have been so unexpected, but his heart grew heavy when he saw his only child – his precious daughter – in tears. With a tight throat, he approached her as she sat on Cailan's side of the bed. Draped in her lap was Cailan's clothing. It was a soft tunic of rich burgundy; Loghain assumed it was one he slept in. Her delicate hands clenched the material. Dark circles formed where her tears fell. Her hair was loose; he hadn't realized it had gotten so long. The thick blonde locks reached her waist. When she looked at him, he felt a lapse in time. With her large, wet eyes and hair free, she looked no older than seventeen - not at all like a mourning wife. For just a moment, he wondered if he could guess at the trivial matter that had upset his young girl, but he saw Cailan's clothes again and realized that she didn't merely look childlike, but her grief broke through to her core. Her nerves were visible. She was vulnerable. Loghain knew a thing or two about that feeling.

"Father." When she called to him, her voice was barely above a whisper, but just enough for him to hear it quaver. She blinked away the stinging in her eyes and he sat on the bed beside her, shedding all concerns in the world for the hour that followed.

Anora waited with icy stillness. Loghain turned his face away from her in shame. He didn't blame himself for Cailan's death; there was nothing about that day he could have done any differently. But there was somewhere he failed. The pain didn't come when he thought he failed Maric, Cailan, or even Ferelden. He didn't see pain from any of them. He saw it in Anora and it tore away at him the first week he was at the castle with her. "Cailan's death was his own doing."

He heard her walk out. He didn't raise his eyes until Howe exited as well. Just enough time was given for him to move past his emotional memories before a guard approached him. "My lord, there is someone to see you."

Loghain waved for the guard to show them in. The soldier waved down the hall, signaling the elf and a masked follower to enter. It took a moment for Loghain to remember who the elf was. But when the accent was heard, he remembered the assassin.

"My lord," the elf took a bow. The follower did not. Loghain glared at the mysterious Crow. He didn't like the manner of that one anymore than he liked Howe's. Groveling elves did not concern him, they were easily sized up, but the other was stiff, motionless. He could tell she was female from her armor. Feminine, glittering eyes with an eerie shade of navy peered from under the shawl. He could learn nothing more from her face, save her skin was light.

She was small, probably an elf. Loghain tensed at that thought. She could easily be an Orlesian elven bard, like Katriel. The corner of his mouth involuntarily twitched downward at the memory of that spy. He wanted this one out of the castle. Now.

The Antivan elf rose from his bow and stood formally. "The matter has been taken care of."

"I assume you're here for payment," Loghain drawled. The elf gave a single nod. Rising from his chair, he gestured for them to follow. The doorway past them to his study had Loghain passing the mysterious assassin. He didn't take his eyes from her as he passed, but he found out why she was so still. Her armor was new. He could smell that it was recently crafted and it was a material he had never seen before. As she turned to follow, it creaked. She wouldn't be sneaking up on anyone with that. A poor disguise. The hair on his nape rose as she walked behind him.

He led them to the study, remaining by the door so he could shut it for the exchange. It was a good reason for him to get out of her direct line of charge, if she chose to attack. With them alone, however, she was free to strike without notice. Loghain gave her a wide berth as he crossed the room to his desk.

The bag of gold was waiting. There had been no news about the wardens in weeks so he had to solid reason to doubt the assassin. Crows would never stand for such a deception, he knew, though it gave him no comfort.

"Take it and leave." The elf approached to take the payment. Loghain watched his companion, whose eyes were riveted to the bag of coins. With their transaction completed, the Crows were free to leave. The regent circled around them once more and opened the door without having a dagger piercing his kidney.

The assassins were gone without another word. When the mysterious Crow passed, Loghain learned the only other physicality he would of her – a few locks of raven hair hung below the cloth around her shoulders and head.

Loghain shut the door and rushed to his desk. Ice blue eyes scanned for anything digestible they could have poisoned. His desk was bare – even of the rolled up letter.

"Maker damn it!" He marched out of the study and whipped his head both directions. The hallway was long, but the Crows disappeared.

* * *

"Loghain, you dirty, rotten bastard." The shawl was draped around her shoulders. While she read the only thing they could snag from Loghain, Zevran had been standing back admiring the way her hair was disheveled. She looked like she was recently embraced in the throes of passion, especially with the sheen of sweat across her chest and forehead.

"What is it, my dear? Something useful?" He pushed off the wall he leaned on to look over her shoulder at the letter she held. It was long and wordy. At the bottom was an elegant signature. Loghain Mac Tir, Teyrn of Gwaren. Beside it was a red seal with a wyvern.

"Slaves. The fucker is allowing Tevinter slavers to pick through the Alienage." Zevran was surprised at her moral outrage over the matter. Most pirates were slavers. He did share indignation out of loyalty to his people. It wasn't fun being sold.

"That information will come in handy, no doubt. Is it a proposition?"

"No, an ongoing arrangement." She continued glaring at the contract.

Zevran flopped back on the bed. "I was a slave, you know. The Crows bought me for three sovereigns."

"Eight." The assassin regarded her with curiosity.

"What was that, my dear?"

Shiva rolled the parchment back up and tied it secure. "I was bought for eight sovereigns."

Zevran's eyes widened. "You? A slave as well? Who would dare attempt to own such a deadly sex goddess?"

"A man that now lies dead, naturally." Her smile was forced and cold.


	16. Only Fools Rush In

Borrowed Time, Ch 16 – Only Fools Rush In

AN: We're gonna indulge in a few fantasies of mine (not naughty ones, or at least not naughty in that way…)

* * *

Shiva had already unwisely given Zevran his share of the gold. His additional share since he already had 50 sovereigns from Loghain. He had been gone all day and she was bored. Her stomach was full and her situation too delicate for her to allow herself to get drunk off her ass. The room didn't even have any good books to read.

_Where the hell is Zev?_

An idea struck her light lightening. She didn't know why she hadn't thought of it before. Shiva gathered her things and headed for the Pearl.

* * *

The brothel wasn't as disgusting as she thought it would be, but that was because she wasn't far in it yet. A hooded dwarf glared around the lobby as if he didn't want to be there either. The madam stood by the bar dealing with patrons. It was a busy day. The last times she had to enter a similar establishment it wasn't bustling.

She saw Zevran talking to someone, but couldn't see who until she passed through the doorway. When she did, she stopped dead in her tracks. She had completely forgotten about the overrated Pirate Queen of the Eastern Seas. Shiva remained at the door, watching them converse.

Isabela was holding a tankard and chatting lively with Zev. She hoped her Antivan friend could keep the harlot occupied for the next few hours. Shiva slowly backed out of the brothel and headed for the docks.

* * *

There was an underground tunnel only privileged Raiders knew about. They smuggled more serious wares – Black Hand poison, Qamek, and –Shiva's personal favorite – Qunari exploding powder. Thankfully, she came during Damien's shift.

The bald smuggler was staring out over the water in the cavernous opening to the Amaranthine Ocean. A familiar tut from behind him caught his attention.

"Captain Shiv. Maker's balls we ain't seen you in a long time." His scruffy face lit up for his faithful customer.

"Damien. How are you, you ugly sod?" Shiva was wrapped in a bear hug.

"Ey now, you know you been dying for a taste o' this." His grin revealed another chipped tooth than she remembered him having.

"You know what I'm dying for a taste of." Her arms were crossed in her usual lets-do-business pose.

"Aye cap'n." He led her to a large barrel and lifted the top. Within was the familiar grey grit. She bit her lip in excitement. Maker, it had been too damn long. A rush of adrenaline coursed through her body.

"Well, don't just stand they Damien. Give me a price. I'm not after all of it." She scanned the area, hoping to see a suitable pack to bring aboard the ship. There was one beside her large enough to suit her purposes. She picked it up from the crate. "This too."

"Enough to fill that?" He scratched his scalp. She knew simple arithmetic was difficult for sailors so she let him take his time. "Eh, just scoop it in there and we'll see how much from what's left in the barrel. Should be a tankard or somethin' somewhere." She forgot how heavy that shit was. The bag could hold nearly a quarter of what was in the barrel. "That'll be around 175."

Shiva laughed. "Nonsense. I'm not paying 175 sovereigns for this. The barrel goes for 500. Give me a real price. Better yet, I'll give you one – 75."

"Pfft. Maybe for 75 wanks to completion, Shiv. 150. No lower." He looked worried. Shiva wondered who this was actually for.

"You know I don't like this game, Damien. 100 and if you counter with anything other than that I'll pack some right in your hole." The smuggler sighed. He knew she didn't like shopping, strange woman.

"Alright, fine. But you help me load stones in the bottom to make up for the weight." He pointed a finger at her like he actually had any say.

Shiva's cowl was back over her head. Walking lightly was difficult with the bag on her. The _Siren's Call_ was hard to miss. She had acquired an eye for ships years ago. Getting on board was less of a challenge than it should have been. All she had to do was blend in with the workers moving the cargo, just as she had done when she first joined the pirate crew all those years before.

* * *

9:21 Dragon

Shiva wandered through the streets of Denerim with nothing but the clothes on her back. It had been a year since she killed her master and she found stealing food and sleeping in the streets was a less miserable life than the one she had before.

She was following the breeze. It was a hot summer that reminded her of her life in Cwenhill and she was trying to distance herself from those memories.

Walking against the wind, she could smell the salty shore as she neared, with a less pleasant smell underneath. It was the musk of the men working on the docks. She sat at the edge of an alley near one ship. An hour or two must have passed while her eyes followed three young men carrying crates together. She watched as they disappeared on the deck with crates and returned without.

Shiva stood at the edge of the alley and waited for one to look her direction. The one wearing a black leather cap did. She waved at him and gestured for him to come to her when he returned the greeting. His companions noticed and encouraged him to speak to her.

When he neared, she could see his face was as dirty as hers. His eyes were red and plump lips chapped. "Where does this ship go?" She asked.

"Everywhere. Best not go near it. The captain has little tolerance for stowaways." His voice was hoarse and his manner was timid. Shiva wasn't put off and stared longingly at the ship. It would be such a change.

"Are you not happy as a sailor?" She met his large dull eyes. He shook his head.

"Look, m'lady. You need to leave. It isn't safe. That's a pirate ship." Shiva's eyebrows shot up.

"You don't say," she whispered.

"Wipe away that look, lady. It's a harsh struggle and a bloody one too. I'd give anything to get out of it." The lad looked over his shoulder. His friends pretended to be struggling with a heavy crate, glancing at him occasionally.

"Even your hat and gloves?" She had been eyeing him. He was her size and color. The boy was slim, almost sickly so. She had firmer muscles than he did. She wore a tight tunic under her large white shirt to hide her breasts. She was vulnerable while she was homeless and didn't want to have any obvious appealing features.

"Pardon?" He turned his large grey eyes. Most likely, he knew exactly where she was going with the question.

"Would your friends help me take your place?" Shiva was dead serious. She tried to keep her breathing steady through the excitement. Her mother had a love for ships and would paint them in the midst of fogs, storms, and battles. There was no more beautiful invention than a fine ship.

He seemed to think for a moment. His eyes lit up and he waved for his friends to come over. Shiva didn't know what he was doing and tensed. She was wary as his friends approached. They had a similar look and were probably brothers. "Lads," the first addressed his friends. "She's my way out."

The taller of the two companions put his hand to the first lad's chest. "Are you sure, Robby?" His tongue was thick with a foreign accent - Orlesian.

"I'm sure, Cas. I can't take it anymore." Robby removed his hat and gloves, offering them to Shiva. "Are you sure, my lady?"

She nodded and took the items he held out, removing the black scarf from around her neck to trade. He shook his head and clamped it down in her hand.

"You'll need it more than me." Robby gave her a kiss on the cheek and scurried off after patting his friends on the shoulder. Shiva twirled her hair and hid it in the cap.

The taller lad, Cas, addressed their new crewmate. "It would be best if you responded to Robby. I am Caspian, this is my brother Reaver. Now come. We have much cargo to load and you have much to learn before you are able."

* * *

Shiva had cut a hole in the bag and let it pour as she went through the hold. A thin stream of the sand was all it took to blow through and sink the vessel. It wouldn't sink far so close to shore, but it would be destroyed. The powder was spread and treaded through as she made her way to the captain's cabin.

She didn't get a chance to use her lockpicks that often since Zev joined her. He was better than she was so she left it to him to get them into chests and locked doors, but she wasn't sure what type of relationship she had with Isabela. If they were sleeping together, Shiva didn't have anymore leverage that could beat that.

The lock was difficult, nearly bent her lockpick, but she made it inside. There was a large table where she entered and a writing desk beyond it. The plates were silver. Valuable, but too large. Shiva had to be choosy about what she would get away with. The utensils could come, as could some small shell shaped saucers.

On the writing desk was a bottle of Golden Scythe 4:90 Black. Her breath hitched upon seeing that. Grabbing a thin throw from the chair, Shiva reverently wrapped the bottle and packed it in the bag that once had the Qunari powder. Looking back, she saw the bag of coins that she completely was oblivious to when the drink was to be claimed. From her quick peek, she estimated 30 sovereigns and 10 silvers within.

A map was rolled out on the desk with some scribbles and routes drawn. Orlais seemed to have been a recent stop. Shiva grabbed the quill and wrote 'Isabela' on the back before rolling it and picking up the map case that was propped against the leg of the desk. Within it were a few more maps she'd have to look through later.

Isabela's cot was something Shiva didn't want to touch, but she had to near it since there was a small locked box beside it – jewelry? Vials of poison? More coin?

Inside was almost disappointing. The jewelry was gaudy, but she could probably sell it to some Orlesian who was charmed by anything shiny. The jewelry was made of gold, after all. What was of more interest to Shiva was the small knife with an ivory handle inlaid with small gems and gold. Pricy.

Beyond that and a scimitar mounted on the wall, which she also took, there was little of interest. Time to go.

Shiva was nearly past the second row of warehouses before she heard the explosion. Around her, people whipped their heads around and started running toward the ships.

* * *

She was studying the maps in her room at the Gnawed Noble Inn when Zev returned. He didn't wear the usual suggestive countenance. "Had your fill?"

Zevran sighed. "I was going to. Ran into an old lover of mine in the whorehouse, but some of her crew approached before we got a room with some of the whores and called her away. I didn't hear what happened."

"Shame." Shiva put her spoils away. She wasn't in a sharing mood; she hardly knew whose side Zev was on. Too bad Morrigan or Leliana weren't there. Hell, even Loki.

* * *

Eamon, Alistair, and the others made it the following day. They were given rooms at Eamon's estate. The Landsmeet had been called and the nobles were making their way from all over Ferelden to attend. It would be held in a week.

Eamon, Shiva, Alistair, and Zevran stood in the atrium. Shiva was beginning to inform them of some new evidence when a guard announced the arrival of Teyrn Loghain and Arl Howe. Eamon's surprise was evident and he had not fully regained his composure when they came marching in.

"Loghain, it is an honor that the Regent would find time to greet me personally." The arl was hesitant and looked as if he was going to hide behind one of the wardens – who Loghain could clearly see had not been assassinated. The grey shawl was tied around Shiva's hips as a sash. She wondered if it would catch Loghain's eye and he could put the pieces together.

"How could I not welcome a man so important to call every noble in Ferelden away from their estates while a Blight claws at our land?" His lieutenant was also present behind him, ogling the general with unmistakable affection.

_Maker forbid those sycophants get off their fat asses._

As if Loghain could feel the weight of her thoughts, he turned to Shiva. The familiar shawl did catch his eye. His lip curled as he gave her a black look. Zevran's shuffling beside Alistair caught Loghain's attention and there was a crisp hostility in the air that magnified when he realized how thoroughly he had been tricked. He was highly suspicious for the exchange but he was focused on the wrong details and made a fool of.

He could not address her before Eamon regained his attention. "That is why we are here. We will expose your crimes and Alistair will be put forth as king. With Cailan dead we need a strong leader." The rumors had been spread already. The gossips had a field day when the news was out that Eamon found a living Theirin.

"Ferelden has a strong leader: its queen. And I lead her armies." It was already escalating. The teyrn had a hair trigger temper.

"If Anora rules, let her speak for herself." She gave him the same defiant stare she did at Ostagar, outside of Cailan's tent.

"Ah, Grey Warden recruit. I thought we might meet again. You have my sympathies about your order. Shame they decided to betray their king."

"General, it would be more logical of you to stop using the Grey Wardens as your scapegoat. None of us here are entirely blameless for that loss, are we?" She didn't know how to react to his retreat, but she knew he was getting shit for it and played that card. "The Blight could not have ended there, despite what wishful thinking desired, for reasons you do not understand." In truth, even she did not fully understand the necessity of Grey Wardens, but she knew there was a specific reason they were needed beyond their heightened prowess.

"'Wouldn't understand,'" he quoted icily. Each syllable left his lips slowly, as if he was taking the time to taste insult as he said it. Loghain took offense just as she intended; he stood before her, mere inches away. She stepped back so she wouldn't have to raise her head at such an extreme angle to meet his eyes w/ the height difference. "Try me." He all but growled.

_I'd like to try you over a slice of warm bread._

She couldn't help herself. Her mind had gone and betrayed her. Her expression melted into a cocky and sultry be-careful-what-you-wish-for look, and the weight of her sexual thoughts was not lost on the enraged general. He too, was caught off guard though, and further angered by the arrogance and total disregard for his command she showed. Her eyes trailed from his to other parts of his anatomy and he grew uncomfortable with her complete mood change.

With a huff, he walked over to Eamon and continued speaking. Shiva's spell was broken, and Howe's leering caught the corner of her eye. He gave her a good slow up and down gaze, and she got an immediate dose of her own medicine. Suppressing a shudder, she tried once again to focus on what was being said, noticing too that Cauthrien was glaring at her, no doubt for daring tease her crush.

All Shiva caught was Loghain approaching Eamon with the same imposing dominance he did her. "The emperor of Orlais also thought I could not bring him down. Expect no more mercy than I showed him. There is nothing I wouldn't do for my homeland." Loghain turned around and marched out, unsuccessfully avoiding Shiva's gaze and quickly looking away slightly uncomfortably.

"Well, that was…. Bracing." Arl Eamon wiped his brow. Shiva said nothing but raised her eyebrows and took a deep sigh in agreement.


	17. Howe Art Thou, Tortured Wardens?

Borrowed Time, Ch 17 – Howe Art Thou, Tortured Wardens?

* * *

"Maker, forgive me." Eamon's head was bowed. His feathery beard was splayed on his silk tunic like his maw extended to devour his own chest. His eyes squeezed shut under his scrunched brow and his lips pursed. "It speaks ill of my character to rejoice at such news, but I cannot help that news of Loghain arrangement with slavers is beneficial to us."

"I shouldn't be surprised," Alistair remarked. "After what he did to his own son-in-law." The prince shook his head.

After a brief explanation of what Eamon intended for the Landsmeet, the wardens went to the guest quarters. Shiva presented the drake scale armor to Leliana; it was well past time to get her out of that useless chantry robe. The armor suited her, she saw. It was believable that the Orlesian was once a bard.

After Shiva's lover exited the room, she noticed Alistair was being uncharacteristically quiet. They were the last two in the quarters, besides Loki and Sten. She sat next to the rightful king, facing him but remaining silent. He inclined his head her direction. "I always thought I'd remain a commoner. It's what I want. I don't want to be king. I can't even lead a group to lunch."

"I saw you as a leader when we met." Alistair turned to her, surprised. She nodded confirmation. "At Ostagar, you led us through the wilds. You may think it small, but you knew the importance of what we were doing out there and what we were facing. You were encouraging and calm." Alistair's doubt overpowered her words.

"But that was different. I was leading four recruits, not a country that I was never meant to rule. I was following Duncan's orders." He waved her opinion away.

"You will have Eamon. Teagan's support too, no less. And mine. You will have the final say but there will be others to guide you while you learn." Her voice was soft; she hadn't used the hushed tone since she was aboard her ship, consoling the men who remained after a costly battle. Her words then were unfeeling; now she cared as Alistair struggled. He was a light that kept her from going astray with his mere presence and there were no words to express how much she appreciated him.

"Anora has the support of the rest of the country. Why should I take the throne from her? The person we need away from the throne is Loghain. He has no claim. She is already there because of her marriage to Cailan. Plus, she is capable. More so than me." He huffed and ran a hand through his spiked hair.

"She allows her father to overstep his authority and is not objective. What has she done to prevent the civil war? Nothing. She does not promote unity as she should. You are right, however. From all accounts I've heard, she is capable. But she does not have everything this country needs." Shiva wished it was not a choice between an honorable, traditional candidate versus one that has proven she can wield the power she hungers for.

It was still unknown how she would bear herself during the Landsmeet against these accusations against the regent. It would be the time for her to come forward as the brains behind Cailan's rule to prove the country wasn't in need of their Theirin. Eamon was a traditionalist, he would fall into line for that reason even if he wasn't already on board, but how many others like him were there?

Neither Shiva nor Alistair knew a thing about nobility. Leliana knew only the games they play behind the curtains, but this was not Orlais. They were not dealing in spies and false smiles. Ferelden was a simple, straightforward land a breath from barbarism. Tension thickly laced the past half-year and there was no denial, no attempt to hide behind false civility. There were lies to keep up a façade of honor, but they were savagely defended.

The wardens were without words. Their place was on a battlefield against the darkspawn, both knew. Shiva hoped they weren't in over their heads.

A bell chimed from across the hall, signaling another guest for Eamon. Shiva was unconcerned until she heard his gasp.

"Your Majesty!" Alistair and Shiva's heads snapped up. In the doorway to Eamon's study a tall, thin blonde stood poised with perfect elegance. Her back was too the wardens. They recognized her from her slinky gown with pastel colors and golden trim. Her hands were clasped by her abdomen and she faced Arl Eamon with graciousness.

"Good afternoon, Arl Eamon. I understand the Grey Wardens are here. I would very much like to speak to them. It is a matter of great importance and I think we would all benefit from the discussion I have in mind." Eamon still stood agape before the queen.

"Of course, your Majesty." The wardens rose before he took a step to fetch them.

"Your Majesty." Shiva addressed her as they crossed the hall. Anora turned to them, as did the petite elf that accompanied her, who was holding a hooded cloak. The five of them entered Eamon's study together.

"Greetings, Grey Wardens. Alistair Theirin, I never thought we would have to meet. Especially under such circumstances. Perhaps it is something I should have expected after Cailan's death." The queen was polite, Shiva had to remind herself she couldn't trust her.

"It is not something I ever foresaw either, your Majesty, and you have my condolences for Cailan's death. He was a good man that hoped too much, and died too young." The prince knew eyes were on him even then and it was impressive how he held himself.

Anora's face fell at the description of her late husband. "Truer words were never said." Turning to Shiva, she commented, "I'm afraid I haven't heard your name before, Warden."

"My name is Shiva, your Majesty. It is a privilege to meet you. I am interested to hear what you came to discuss." Best to get the ball rolling, especially if this was a counterattack from Loghain after her and Zevran's scheme the day before.

"Yes, we should get straight to business. I came to discuss my father. To put it simply, he has gone mad." Shiva's eyebrows raised at hearing the queen's blunt remark. "He has been gripped by a paranoia so severe he hardly sees sense. He must be stopped, and I fear you do not have all that you need to successfully oppose him. I cannot act outright either because of Howe. His schemes have spiraled so far he oversteps custom. You are aware that he invaded Highever and had his army slay the Couslands, correct?"

"Yes," Shiva confirmed. "I was traveling through with Warden-Commander Duncan. He and I were there the night of the invasion. We tried to bring but one of the Couslands out alive, though it would have been as a Grey Warden recruit, but Elissa refused to come." That night had been hard for her to forget. She had never felt such raw emotion as she did when their family was torn apart.

Anora showed sympathy. "I was unaware that there were witnesses that yet lived. This is fortunate. Perhaps Howe can be dealt with during the Landsmeet as well, or afterwards if need be. For the moment, I fear he has something planned for me. I have made my doubts against father known and Howe may act to quell my growing objections. I cannot say for certain what he will do, but I know he has something up his sleeve."

Shiva was running low on civility. "Well, what is it you wish from us? I also do not understand how an alliance will work between us, considering the other issue at hand is the throne."

"I came to ask you for your support. You need me, wardens. Alistair is unfit to rule."

"Not if you were by his side," Shiva interjected. Alistair and Eamon gaped at her, Anora simply paused and blinked.

"I see you have an alternative. If you would elaborate." Her fingers stopped their twiddling, which was the only indication of her unease other than her clipped words.

"Rule alongside Alistair. He is as fine a man as Cailan was, with twice the experience he needs for being an understanding and sensible leader; and like your father, he is far from common." It was a risk to openly refer to Loghain's roots, but the reference proved her point well. Anora admired her father, despite how she spoke against him. She had little faith in Alistair though she knew nothing about him. Shiva could tell the queen was considering her point and continued to hammer at the nail. "He has Theirin blood, but blood alone does not make him competent. Alistair has survived against all odds without being dependent. Even Maric could not claim the same; without Loghain's capability, he would have perished."

"Did Alistair not have you these past months, Warden?" The ice queen was looking for a hole.

"I did not protect him. It was he who sought out Arl Eamon and it is he who holds the treaties for the armies to raise against the Blight."

Anora turned to Alistair, who had given no indication of refusal or acceptance. "Is this arrangement something you are willing to consider?"

Alistair thought about all he had said before her arrival, and what Shiva said to him. "Yes." It seemed he would say no more. He swallowed, licked his lips, and nodded. "I never doubted you were an adept ruler, Queen Anora. I also have faith in what I have to offer this country, but I have much to learn. Ferelden cannot afford a rough transition between monarchs, not now. If we combine the best of what we both have to offer, we can see Ferelden through this crisis."

"You have both made your point then. Alistair and I will rule together. It certainly does forge an alliance. I will give you my support against my father for the Landsmeet in exchange for my place at Alistair's side as his queen. This is an unexpected turn of events, but this is a sure course toward unifying the nation once more."

The plans were firmly pushed in motion with Anora's alliance and if there was no deception, they had a far better chance. Anora left Eamon's estate to return to the castle. Alistair and Shiva were going to search through Denerim for the nobles and see how many of them could be swayed before the Landsmeet.

* * *

The Landsmeet was five days away; Alistair and Shiva spent a great deal of time in the estate and the Gnawed Noble.

They had just finished dining with Bann Alfstanna. Her support was likely. She had been impressed with Alistair's background as a templar. They revealed that Loghain hired the apostate Jowan, using his refugee status against him and convincing him to poison Eamon. She admitted she would be willing to accept the story if she heard it from Eamon at the Landsmeet – his reputation for being respectable and honest made matters easier.

The wardens were heading through an alley to meet with another delegate. It was eerily quiet and completely deserted. Soon they knew why. With an ear piercing synchronized clash, two dozen heavily armored guards stepped from behind the corner and behind the carriages, crates and barrels that littered the area. One stood in the front, a knight with smooth, blonde hair and a beard.

"Grey Wardens, you are under arrest for the murder of King Cailan, Maker rest his soul."

"What? If anyone is responsible for the king's death, it's Loghain!" Alistair's face was twisted in outrage.

"Alistair, stand down. As much as I hate to admit it, we cannot afford risking injury challenging these men. Eamon will take action to free us if we are kept." Shiva was far from at ease about being arrested once again, especially since Duncan was no more and could not save her. She had unsuccessfully fought seven guards when she was arrested in Amaranthine a year before, killing four in the process before one bashed her head with the pommel of his longsword.

Their capture – for that is what it truly was – was inevitable. As much as she wanted to draw her blades and cause blood to rain from the bodies standing against her, she knew it would be no use.

* * *

Alistair leaned his head back too fast and banged it against the wall again. He didn't want to think about the purpose of the pile of hay that was next to him in his cell. The smell wouldn't let him forget that he had needed to make use of it since he was thrown in three days before. Other than a few blows, he hadn't received much torture – not like Shiva did. Each day they brought her back with new injuries. She would barely be aware of her surroundings and he hadn't been able to get her to speak to him in her barely lucid state.

Shiva's unconscious body was thrown in the cell with Alistair. Like him, she wore only her undergarments, but hers were stained with blood. He crawled to her, examining new injuries as well as old. He saw the tattoo that stretched out from under her knickers. The head of a dragon peeked above the waistband and its wings spread to either side of her buttocks. Along her legs were welts and bruises, same as on her back, which had its own array of scars. Her back was marred with scars from being flogged and he wondered at the branding scars along her spine. He was shocked anew at seeing what her body had gone through. Taking in the taint was far from the worst she had endured.

It looked like they had tried to drown her. Alistair's hands gently pulled at her wet hair that was around her neck like a cord. He moved the locks, revealing a red raw line where she had been strangled. Her wrists had similar wear and were still bleeding from the ropes that had her bound earlier. Her left eye was swollen and black, her lip had a cut on the same side.

"Shiva?" He tried to wake her, but it was no use for now. She eventually started to stir, Alistair was right by her. "Shiva." She mumbled something and slowly felt around the floor. Her right eye opened a little, the black one opened less. "Shiva, thank the Maker you're awake!"

"Alis?"

"It's me. Can you sit up?" He put his arm around her shoulder and helped her sit up. She wasn't ready for the movement and remained limp. He settled her into his lap. Her legs and rear were on the ground and her back was lying on his legs. With his right arm, he cradled her head and shoulders.

She looked at him, noticing he was pretty exposed. "Shiv? Are you still with me?" The scared puppy look in his eyes was adorable. That combined with their attire left her with her usual inappropriate responses.

"Come here often?" Her smile was slight since her lip stung when she moved it. Instead of her usual purr, her voice was a croak. Alistair chuckled.

"There you are. I was beginning to think I lost you." She recognized the same emotion in his voice from when they first spoke about Duncan after Lothering.

"I'm not going anywhere, brother. Loghain and the archdemon? Pfft, I'm not letting you have all the fun."

"Fine by me," he quipped.

Shiva stood, finally aware enough to be capable of independent movement. A raspy voice spoke behind her.

"Are you alright, sister?" The voice had an Orlesian accent. She turned to the man in the other cell. He stood at the bars with his hand against it. His body was lean and his hair dark and loose, except for a braid at each side was pulled back. His face was scruffy and blue eyes shone from beneath long, lashes. What she found most interesting was that she finally noticed the warmth that radiated from him. He was a warden.

"I will be. Who are you?" He took his hand from the bar and wrapped his arms around his torso, delivering a stiff bow.

"I am Riordan, senior warden of Jader."

Alistair confirmed. "He's one of us. He was at my joining."

"How did they get you?" Shiva inquired.

"I approached Howe thinking he did not know who I was. It was foolish to do so. He had an offer of hospitality and a poisoned chalice. That was months ago, at least."

Shiva's strength was returning to her and she was ready for freedom. Feeling the waistband of her knickers, she tore at the seams to pull out two lockpicks and instantly went to work on the lock. Several minutes passed before the click was heard and the door sprung free from its latch. She crossed to the door to Riordan's cell and did the same. "Alistair, watch the hall."

The prince jogged to the doorway of the dungeon and saw two guards approach. He went back and whispered his report. Shiva had opened the second door by then and flattened against the wall beside the entrance to the room. When the guards entered side-by-side, she kicked the nearest one for the men to deal with. She swiftly side stepped toward the other guard and wrapped her hands around his head, twisting with as much pressure as she could muster. It was enough to snap his neck.

The other guard was dead soon after and they looked over the equipment they would have to take. "You two take their armor, you've both had it worse than me," Alistair suggested. He bent down to reach for the longsword and shield, while Shiva picked up the longsword from the other guard, leaving his shield on the ground. The guard also had a longbow.

"You wouldn't happen to be an archer, would you, Riordan?" Shiva held the longbow out to him as he pulled on the guard's greaves.

"I am skilled enough with a bow to wield it. I will take it." They finished equipping their armor and headed down the hall. Shiva led the wardens, Riordan took the rear and Alistair stood between them. They all had a strong sense of dread since none knew their way around the fort. Shiva hoped they could find their own equipment on the way out. The average make of what they had was far from adequate.

* * *

"These will do nicely." Howe dragged his thumb along the blade, testing its sharpness. The slice in his skin bothered him little since it would do far more damage to the female warden when he brought it across her throat – after hours of torment, of course. He remembered her from Highever. Even then he had wondered how she looked covered in blood and sweat, begging for death as a release. Never did he imagine that he would personally be there to find out.

A leather roll of tools was on the table before him. After replacing the knife in its sheath, he reverently rolled the pouch of handheld torture devices and tucked it under his arm. He had already dispatched two guards to collect her.

_We'll see what the bastard prince can do without his lovely warden companion. _

He should torture her right in front of him. Close enough so when the blood spurted from her veins it would shower the cowardly little bastard. Howe's thin lips stretched into a fiendish smile.

* * *

Each room they left had two or three slain guards. Shiva wished she knew how to use a shield – it would have prevented her from getting bitten on the arm by one of the Mabari. Alistair had to step up since he had better defense against the hound. She watched him since his armor was only half-donned.

They were soaked with blood, very little being their own. Riordan was breathing heavy, no doubt since he had little excitement since is capture. Shiva's wounds were protesting under the armor. It chafed since she put it on sloppily in her haste, and the scabs from her more recent wounds were being torn off with her movements.

They must have been near the entrance; they knew it. Their pace collectively increased. They opened another door, ready for a guard or two, but did not expect the group they found.

Standing in the back was a mage. He had a fire in his eyes similar with what he would use against them. There were four guards around and closest to Shiva stood Arl Howe. He had a faint look of surprise when they entered. It slid away quickly when his arrogance resumed its reign.

"Were the guards I sent to escort you here not to your liking? Very well. You have fallen into my lap nonetheless so I shan't complain. These are unexpected circumstances to meet under, yes? When you stood ogling the Cousland boy at their castle, I never thought you would make it out of his chambers that night alive." He stood with his hands clasped behind his back. His smirk was sardonic.

"Save it, Howe. I'm getting out of here and I am eager to go straight through you if need be." Shiva drew her weapons and stood in the natural stance, longsword overhead and dagger she picked up on the way pointing straight for the corrupted snake's throat.

Howe drew a gleaming axe and dagger from his back. He was disappointed he couldn't give her the slow death he planned, but perhaps if he maimed her and held the final bow, he still could execute it. "You won't make it another ten steps, harlot." The corner of Shiva's lip quirked. She spun around where she stood and used the force of her movement to send the dagger straight into the crook of Howe's elbow. He dropped his axe with a growl and his accomplices exploded into action. Two were dispatched immediately with Riordan's rapid fire. Alistair went for the mage, using his templar abilities to drain his magic. Shiva was going straight for Howe.

She removed her dagger with a downward slice through his forearm. Even with the fight he put up, he would bleed to death in minutes. He tried to pierce her with his dagger. The snake was swift and cunning, but her longsword gave her superior reach. When he lunged, she slashed at his face. She missed by a mere breath since he would bounce back from the foot that was nearest her in his stance. After Riordan killed the other guards, he shot Howe. The arrow pierced the back of his shoulder. When he stiffened in pain, Shiva kicked him in the chin and sent him on his back. He landed on his back, forcing the arrow that protruded from his skin through the other side. The three wardens crowded around his downed form with grim expressions. None moved except Howe, who scooted back pathetically as he rasped.

"Maker spit on you. I… Deserved... More!" After his final utterance, he flopped back limply. All that could be heard was his death rattle. The blood stopped pouring from his arm. Each warden went separate ways in the room. A long table along the back is where Riordan headed. All of their equipment was on it. Shiva stepped forward to pick up Howe's axe. Etched in the blade was a swirling design that looked similar to a vine. The handle was covered in a dusky, dark blue with cross-stitched black thread. Alistair bent to search through the guard's satchels for poultices.

A rustling behind them caused Shiva and Alistair to turn to Riordan. He was rolling up some documents and tucking them away in a pack he held. They noticed their armor and weapons were beside him and both stood to take their equipment. They were free to leave Fort Drakon and return to Arl Eamon's estate on the other side of the city.


	18. Hungry Like the Wolf

Borrowed Time, Ch 18 – Hungry Like the Wolf

* * *

The sun was blinding when they exited the fort at high noon. So long in the dim dungeons had their eyes unused to daylight. When their sight adjusted enough for them to lower their shielding forearms, they made their way out. There were few guards around. None of the wardens knew what it was that called the rest away. With luck, they wouldn't come across them.

* * *

Loghain's hand covered his mouth as his mind strained with worry. The Landsmeet was two days away and Anora had not been seen for the previous two. Her handmaiden knew no more than he, and the little Orlesian elf was frantic. Loghain had dismissed her immediately after he decided she was truly ignorant about his daughter's location. The accent that thickened her tongue was irritating most days, but her shrill caterwauls as she cried for her mistress made the thought of shoving a lit candle into his ears appealing to Loghain.

His guards scoured the city searching for his daughter. The wardens had been captured before her disappearance, so unless their companions took her, he had no leads. Howe was no help. Loghain visited his estate the first evening she couldn't be found and had given him nothing.

It could also be a plot from Maric's bastard's supporters. He knew the wardens were going to the nobles spreading lies and false promises to sway them to their cause. The female warden seemed to be able to bewitch men easily. He had left Eamon's estate with his skin tickling from the spell she must have cast. She tugged at a string within himself he didn't know was there and it shamed him. Maric was the one that was led about by his short sword, not he. Loghain was not a reckless, lustful man. He had lain with Rowan, true; but that woman had captured his heart. The warden did not and would not. She was insolent and conniving. He mentally disposed of the image of her cerulean eyes glittering at him beneath her disguise. She wasn't alluring without her magic. She certainly held no charm over the guards in Fort Drakon so she was no longer of any concern to him.

The regent sighed impatiently and drummed his fingers on the table. He felt helpless not knowing where to find Anora. He _hated_ feeling helpless. Whoever held her would pay.

* * *

"A Grey Warden cache? Here? In Denerim?" Alistair's voice got higher with excitement.

"Yes, it is in the warehouse in the market district. If the two of you would not mind, I would like to stop by there to pick up some equipment. Feel free to take anything you wish from there. We are all that is left of our order in this country and your efforts so far should be rewarded." Riordan's strides were long and smooth. He reminded Shiva so much of Duncan.

They reached the warehouse Riordan spoke of. It was near Eamon's estate, past the Wonders of Thedas. They entered and weaved through the piled crates, chests, and stacked tables until they stood along the far wall. Riordan opened the door to one of the large wardrobes that were against the wall and moved the clothes within to remove the false back panel. Riordan, Alistair, and Shiva stepped through.

The room was spacious. Along the walls were racks with weapons, chests, and several cabinets. What caught Shiva's eye was the breathtaking suit of armor on the stand. The griffon inscribed on the breastplate was volcanic aurum, giving it a golden color. Various other pieces were made of the same material. The rest was silverite, giving an overall blackish hue to the set. Even if Shiva tried, she could not leave it to adorn the mannequin. She knew it was meant for a Commander, and she did not presume herself the Commander of the Ferelden Grey Wardens, not with only months of experience as one, but she would at least put it to good use.

It would take her time to get used to heavy armor again, but she thought she could manage. It made a powerful statement of who she had to become. Her past meant little - she served Ferelden as a protector against corruption. In the past several months, she had grown considerably. The issues at hand affected far more people than she had ever been responsible for.

She stepped back into the other part of the warehouse to put it on. She stretched best she could. The armor was stiff from the stillness it had been in for Maker only knew how long, but beneath the stiffness of disuse it was well worn. The iron armor that lay discarded at her feet were rags compared to what she wore.

When she reentered the men stole a long look at her. "It suits you," Alistair admitted simply. She nodded thanks and continued to look through what they had there.

Shiva opened one of the cabinets and had a rolled up parchment fall to her feet. Bending down to scoop it up, she felt that it was old and brittle. She unrolled it gently, recognizing the location on the map as the Anderfels. There were charcoal darkened shades of where the darkspawn had shown themselves.

The roads were undulating lines that ended in a flick of the cartographer's wrist, estimating from the sharpened thorn of the road's end. The seas were small loops toward the southern region. The mountains were noted with angled beaks pointing north. Some were labeled according to the structures built there – Weisshaupt, Hossberg – and the backbone of the Wandering Hills, ending with a large swirl that looked like a volcano.

The map was beautiful. The artistry was ancient and unlike anything she had ever seen. On it were strange beasts, some similar to bereskarn – Shiva had never seen one but Alistair described the great tainted bears he had come across near the Brecilian Forest. The others were unlike ones she had ever seen. The most familiar figures were winged serpents, giant horned lizards similar to a wyvern, a stubby armed mammal with massive canines. Dipping into the parchment was the head and neck of a dragon. Its flames licked at the corners and fanned in decorative swoops. The flames surrounded the word 'Orthlands' – the ancient name for the Anderfels, derived from the Orth people.

She looked where the map fell from and saw a thick journal with fragments of parchment sticking out messily. The journal contained an account of the first Blight from the point of view of the first wardens. It was written in ancient version of the common tongue, which Shiva found difficult to make sense of.

A sharp intake of breath snapped Shiva out of her reverie. Behind her, Alistair was bent over an open chest. He picked up a silverite shield. A white griffon was emblazoned in the center, outlined in blue. On either side were two gold rope designs with royal blue on the outer sides.

"Duncan's shield." Alistair rose and turned around, not taking his eyes off of it. "I had no idea it wasn't with him. I had wanted something to remember him by. This is perfect."

Riordan approached the warden and put his hand on the young man's shoulder. "He would want you to have it."

Alistair nodded, too choked up for words. He took his shield off, leaving it at the foot of the mannequin. With all they wished to claim, the wardens left the warehouse, replacing the false panel and closing the way to their secret vault.

* * *

Warden hunger was a curious thing, indeed. Not only could they put away food with great speed, but they have been known to eat up to three times more than what is considered a large meal. Alistair and Shiva's display was astonishing. The dining hall at Eamon's estate had a large feast from the lunch they had just missed. Roast, poultry, cheese, bread, fruit, nuts – all they could grab and shovel into their mouths, and more. They didn't bother sitting. They stood over the table and wandered as they picked. Wynne was watching from where she healed Riordan's wounds with concern and amusement.

A servant asked Alistair to go to Eamon's study. He whined, picking up food on his way around the table to the door as well as a cloth handkerchief to wipe his mouth on. "Leave some for me!" He called to Shiva, who only grunted through the bread in her mouth. Alistair left the room and after several minutes, Anora entered. Her eyebrows raised at the gluttonous warden. She approached slowly, waiting for Shiva to right herself and excuse her manners. She did not.

"Hello, warden." All she got as a response was a wave and a hum. Shiva's fingers were greasy from picking through the goose meat. "I came to fetch you personally because I wished to see your condition as soon as possible. I noticed that you didn't trust me when we met and I don't want there to be any unease between us. I said nothing false when I was here, and I didn't want you to think that the guards took you under my command. In fact, I was captured by Howe. I spoke of how he had something in store for me. He locked me in his estate. Luckily, one of my personal bodyguards came to Eamon informing him that I, too, had been captured. Several of your companions rescued me. They spoke highly of your leadership when they escorted me here." She paused a moment, then tutted. "Warden, are you listening to me?"

Shiva wiped her mouth and hands with a cloth. "Yes, your Majesty. If you were truly captured by Howe then you will be pleased to know we had to kill him. He was coming to torture us; we ran into him when we made our escape."

"Howe's death is fortunate for us. I feel that he has helped poison my father's mind. Arl Eamon told me about the arrangement with the slavers. That is not a scheme my father would come up with on his own. It still pained me to learn that he had a hand in it." Anora lowered her eyes sadly. "I know we discussed this before, but I wanted to ask you something away from Eamon and Alistair's ears. It is your word that will matter at the Landsmeet. It is true that Alistair is to be king, but the role of leadership since Ostagar was yours. As one of the leaders in the country, tell me: what is the preferred outcome concerning my father, in your opinion?"

Shiva paused to think about it. "Loghain is still a strong and capable warrior. I hope he can be spared and convinced to abandon whatever reservations he has about the Grey Wardens and combat the Blight with us."

"I am glad to hear it. I would rather my father live. He will not step down easily, however. He believes he is right in what he does. But that is all I wished to know. Is there anything you would like to ask me in return?" Anora was more open after the conversation. She could see that Shiva had what was truly for the best. If all went as she wished, Anora would remain on the throne – with a husband - and her father would live to continue to defend the country. It was more than she expected.

"I would like to understand Loghain better, if possible. I understand that he believes he does what is necessary. I can also safely assume that he believes he is the only one that can do things right. But has he ever been seized by such an obsession? Is he beyond hope?"

Anora sighed. "He always had a strongly suspicious character, but it caused him to be cautious and was rarely wrong with the concerns he shared. His heart is in the right place, but I do not know if we can get him to step down peacefully. It all depends on how the Landsmeet goes."

"Very well. What about his background?"

Anora lightened at the change. "I would gladly tell you. Let us make our way to Arl Eamon's study." They fell into stride beside each other. Shiva had to keep her steps slower than she normally did for Anora to keep up with her easy ambling. "He was a farmer's son, if you can believe it. I never could, myself," she laughed. She leaned toward Shiva as if she was about to tell her a secret. "He's useless with plants. I remember my mother was tending the gardens and was treating a sick rose vine. She asked for my father's help. He touched it – no more than that – and it shed half its leaves like a dog with mange. She never asked for his help with plants again. He bought her the finest rose bush he could find in Denerim and brought it to her himself. He wouldn't let anyone else take it. Despite the thorns tearing him bloody, he wanted to be the one to present it to her. It is as you said, warden: my father may be wrong, but he is far from common."

Shiva was laughing at her description of him. "The first time I met him, I wondered how much tenderness he had behind his course bearing. I'm relieved that he has a softhearted side for his family. It speaks well of him. Where I'm from, the father figures are tyrants. I had hoped such was not the case with him."

"I would not have guessed that you were not from Ferelden."

"Not from Thedas, your Majesty. There are few who dare cross oceans but such daring individuals do exist." Anora couldn't ask after her background any more. They had reached Eamon's study.

"There you are, your Majesty. Warden," Eamon greeted. "I trust you have been informed about Howe's treachery against Queen Anora."

"Yes, and I trust you have been informed that the bastard is dead?" Shiva raised a brow to Alistair, wondering if he had updated the Arl.

"I have, indeed. I suggest the three of you remain at my estate. We cannot risk further exposure."

"Queen Anora," Shiva began. "Is your location known to any outside the estate? Some may think we have captured and held you here."

"No, and I understand that there is a search for me but when they came here I remained hidden, dressed as one of the guards. They will not find me and if any find out I am here, I will declare that I remained willingly because of our allegiance."

Shiva shrugged. "I guess all we can do is wait for the Landsmeet then."

* * *

The following evening, Shiva and Alistair sat in the library at the estate. Alistair slouched in his chair and let his head hang over the back. "Maker, I'm so nervous I feel like I'm going to be sick. I can't even imagine what you must be feeling."

"Why me?" Shiva was flipping through a book - not reading, just looking for pictures. She had her knees by her chin.

"Well, you know. You're gonna be saying stuff. I'll just be standing there." Shiva clamped the book shut.

"No ser. _You_ are going to be 'saying stuff' and _I_ will be standing there." Her words were more emphatic thanks to her finger pointing when she assigned their roles. She had meant to say something to him before, but the overwhelming boredom caused her mind to dull. It was as if Eamon, and all he owned, created a vacuum for anything interesting to be sucked into and dissipate forever.

He snapped up. "What?!"

She too straightened and turned to face him. "Alis, you should be the one to present our evidence. Show them you can hold your ground. I promise I'll step in if I see that you are at a loss."

"But… But I don't know – anything! I can't lead our side of the Landsmeet!"

She waved at him as if delivering a slap. His hair moved with the draft her movement caused, but his mouth didn't close, nor did his eyes return to their normal size. "Nonsense. You were a warden before I was. You are just and honorable. You can call the falsehoods Loghain has hidden behind as easily as I could, perhaps better."

Alistair slumped onto the table, speechless. "Maker. You're really going to make me do this, aren't you?"

Shiva affirmed while she pulled her chair beside him. She squeezed his arm as she had quickly fallen into the habit of doing when she comforted him. "We are going to succeed, Alistair. Loghain is on his own now that Howe is dead. You have Eamon, myself, and Queen Anora." He shook his head as a reflex, but still felt the hope stir within him.

"Yeah. I think we have a chance." She patted him on the back.

"Good! Now I'm going to unwind and you should do the same. Shall I get Zevran to give you a massage?" She bit her lip picturing a blushing Alistair squirming under the elf's wandering hands.

"Andraste's blood, NO! Last thing I need is a man's hand's on me. Ugh!" He scooted his chair away from her, as if he was actually distancing himself from her suggestion. She laughed and ruffled his hair.

"Have I ever told you you're my favorite warden?"

"Aww, thank- hey! I'm the only warden besides you and Riordan, and he's a stranger!" His flattered smile faded into false indignation.

"I know, but if there were more you'd still be my favorite."

"Fair enough." He waved. "Go unwind, not that I even want to know what that means."

Shiva giggled. "If you really don't want to know, don't pass my chambers. Or Leliana's. Depends on where I find her." She bid him goodnight and went to find her little Orlesian.

* * *

After their tumble, Leliana stretched out on the bed, wiping sweat from her forehead. "You've been in quite a mood since you've been back," she giggled. "Not that I mind though, it's just hard to keep up with your appetite." Shiva headed over to the bath they had a servant fill before they went at it. The water was cold, but it felt good since her body still hummed with the heat of lovemaking. The bard propped her head on her hands. "May I join you?"

"If you're willing to risk tempting me into another roll, sure." Shiva rolled a cloth behind her and used it as a pillow while she reclined.

"Maybe I'll stay right here then. I like the view from here, anyway." Her full lips curved into a sweet smile, which Shiva ignored. The bard was fun when things were physical, but her sappy moments were almost sickly so. Shiva fell asleep while she was in there and woke when she felt Leliana straddling her. "I think I changed my mind," she whispered. "I love watching you breathe so softly, and watching your long, pretty eyelashes flutter."

Shiva didn't mind being woken up, but she was curious where that dream about Loghain was taking her. She had never thought about how he would look with his arms slightly bloodied from rose bushes, or with an amorous gaze when he turned to her.


	19. Versus

Borrowed Time, Ch 19 – Versus

AN: My favorite part of the game is included here. I change the dialogue a good bit at some parts and others I stick to it closely. Reviews welcome!

* * *

Alistair's hand hovered by the door to the castle. He looked at Shiva for some support. Behind him, Wynne and Loki waited. Shiva patted his arm and got him moving. Once they fully entered the atrium, Ser Cauthrien stepped forward.

"Warden." She planted her feet in the middle of the room, intent on keeping them out of the chamber beyond. There were four massive columns on either side of the room, guards stepped out from behind each. "I cannot allow you to go any further. Alistair, if you had any right to enter you would already be inside. I cannot forgive the crimes you have committed against my lord and the troubles you have inflicted upon this country." She drew her greatsword from her back.

The wardens said nothing, simply drew their weapons, as did Wynne. The dog was hunched, ready to launch at the first soldier that moved a muscle. Everyone moved toward each other at once. Wynne's staff spat balls of ice at the archers in the back. Alistair moved toward the soldiers at the right, Shiva moved left, past where Loki had already knocked a guard down and was tearing through his throat. Three guards surrounded the pirate and ahead of her she could see Ser Cauthrien charging with her sword preparing to come down upon her. Shiva kicked high, catching a guard by the neck in the crook between her boot and shin guard, and moved his head in front of her. Ser Cauthrien could not stop her blade in time and cleaved the man's head in twain. Shiva slashed with her longsword at the guard to her left, the one that wasn't busy fighting Loki. Her blade ripped through his chest and with her dagger, she pierced the back of his throat through his gaping mouth. She turned to see Ser Cauthrien charging toward her again, and dodged toward the center of the room. The lieutenant's sword became embedded in the wooden column Shiva had been standing in front of. Loki took the opportunity to bite at the back of her calf.

Ser Cauthrien cried out and stumbled. Shiva bashed her on the back of the head with the pommel of her sword. The knight fell, unconscious. "Enough, boy." She halted her Mabari before he could finish her. Shiva tore down the banner that hung by the column and twisted it into a rope. She tied Cauthrien up, gagging her with the same material, and stuck her in the far corner. "Now sit there and think about what you've done!" She moved away from the lightly breathing body and entered the throne room with the others that had dispatched the remaining guards. The wide door opened with a creak and Arl Eamon's voice was heard within.

"My lords and ladies of the Landsmeet. Teyrn Loghain would have you give up our freedoms, our traditions, out of fear! He placed us on this path, but we should place our destiny in his hands? Must we sacrifice everything good about our nation to save it?" Eamon was dressed in a heavy suit of chain. The garnet shaded armor gleamed as he paced and gestured from his place on the balcony. The nobles below him clapped when he paused. One slow, thunderous clapping, stood out among the rest. It came from the opposite side of the room, on the floor of the chamber.

"A fine performance, Eamon," Loghain's drawl was unmistakable. The mockery he implied was punctuated with a contemptuous harrumph. "-but no one here is taken in by it. You would attempt to put a puppet on the throne and every soul here knows it. The better question is 'Who will pull the strings?'" Cold blue eyes scanned the floor for the wardens. "Ah! Here we have the puppeteer." He gestured to Shiva. The pirate crossed her arms and remained silent. Alistair stepped forward.

"If you have concerns about my ability to rule, Loghain, say them to me. I think this game of cat and mouse should end, don't you? Or do you have another hired assassin to throw at us to cover up your betrayal at Ostagar?" A questioning hum rippled through the nobles. Alistair acted surprised at their not knowing. "What? It seems as if they weren't aware of this. Allow me to explain Ostagar." Alistair paced along the floor between Loghain and the nobles so they could see his face contort as Alistair revealed the truth. "The Grey Wardens stood alongside King Cailan at the ruins of Ostagar to face the darkspawn horde that arose from the Korcari Wilds. Teyrn Loghain, General of Ferelden's armies and Hero of River Dane was to emerge from his position at the flank of the hoard and attack them. They would be caught between our combined forces and crushed. Loghain ignored the signal for him to charge – he _abandoned_ the king, as well as the wardens." He paused to let his words sink in. The nobles were hushed into complete silence, breathlessly waiting for the rest of the report. "He removed every chance of our king getting out of there alive to save himself and his own army. Yet he wastefully sent his army to fight our own forces in the bannorn when the Banns did not bow to his regency. Is defending the throne not good enough for you, Loghain?" He turned to the scowling general then. "As long as it isn't you who has all the authority, right?"

Loghain stepped forward to meet his accuser in the center of the audience. "The Grey Wardens baited the king to fight in the front lines so he would be killed. Your wish is for Ferelden to be ruled like the Anderfels – the wardens have more political authority than the king. And how brilliant to combine the two," he growled, gesturing to Alistair. "Grey Warden and King all in one."

"The Grey Wardens did nothing to lead King Cailan to the front lines. We had his ear; we knew he wholeheartedly fought against the Blight so it would not ravage our nation and had no desire for him to fall. But you claim we wished for it?" Alistair shook his head. He turned to address the nobles. "My fellow warden was at the meeting where they discussed the strategy and placement of our forces. Shiva, enlighten us. I know Warden-Commander Duncan would not and did not inform the king that he should stand next to the wardens, did our strategist say anything to the king concerning the risk he took?" His arm was outstretched to present Shiva to the audience.

"It is as Alistair says. Ferelden's strategist was too busy asking King Cailan to reconsider calling upon wardens from other countries to aid us, to convince him to take a more defensive position. We would still have our king as well as the numbers to combat the Blight by now, yet the line of darkspawn surges further north as our regent argues amongst our own forces. He ignores the threat that has claimed our king. I must wonder who else you wish would conveniently fall to the darkspawn and allow you to claim more power?" Her eyes were cold. The usual spark and mischief were absent as she eyed the traitor with fury.

Loghain spat. "The wardens he wished to call upon were Orlesian! Dozens of wardens as well as four legions of Chevaliers would have come right into the land they lost just three decades ago. Do you think afterwards they would simply return from whence they came?"

Alistair turned back to the general. "You think that excuses your disregard for the king's placement? There was a glaring mistake in your strategy, yet you blame the wardens? The ones that were all slaughtered alongside the king, as myself and my companion would have been had he not sent us to complete a different task?"

Shiva stepped forward as well. "Your distrust of the Grey Wardens is misplaced. You referred to their position in the Anderfels yourself, acknowledging that there is the only place that Grey Wardens take on political matters, yet you fear that the Orlesian Grey Wardens would invade in a matter completely outside their duty? Your excuses are growing evermore inconsistent, Teyrn."

"I never said the wardens outside the Anderfels were incapable of taking on politics, warden." He gestured to them and around the room. "Case in point. But while we are on the subject of placing our trust in the Grey Wardens, I must ask what it is you have done to my daughter?"

Alistair hesitated. "We didn't do anything to your daughter."

"You took my daughter – our queen – by force! What arts have you employed to keep her? Does she even still live?" He pointed accusingly, demanding his answer. Shiva felt uneasy as it was curious how he knew Anora was with them.

From behind him, her voice chimed. "I believe I can speak for myself." Loghain turned around, surprised at her sudden and timely arrival. The nobles uttered their surprise in gasps and a combined 'oh!' "Lords and ladies of Ferelden, hear me. My father is no longer the man you know. This man is not the Hero of River Dane." Anora struggled to speak against her father, it was obvious. Loghain was deathly still as he listened to his own daughter refuse to take his side. "This man turned his troops aside as your king fought bravely against the darkspawn. This man seized Cailan's throne and then locked me away so I could not reveal his treachery. I would have already been killed if not for these Grey Wardens."

Loghain sighed deeply and lowered his head. Shiva could not see his expression, but she knew how thoroughly betrayed he must have felt. "So the wardens' influence has poisoned even your mind, Anora. I wanted protect you from this." He swiveled to face the rest of the congregation with renewed effort. "My lords and ladies, our land has been threatened before. It has been invaded and lost and won times beyond counting. We Fereldens have proven that we can never truly be conquered so long as we are united. We must not let ourselves be divided now. Stand with me and we shall defeat even the Blight itself!"

The banns approached the banister to cast their votes.

"South Reach stands with the Grey Wardens."

"Waking Sea stands with the Grey Wardens."

"Dragon's Peak supports the Wardens!"

"The Western Hills stand with Loghain."

"I stand by Loghain," whimpered a noble nearest his supported Teyrn. "We have no hope otherwise!"

The nobles at the floor exploded into an applause. "I stand with the Grey Wardens! We need the Grey Wardens to defeat the Blight!"

Loghain seethed. "Traitors! Which of you stood against the Orlesian emperor when his troops flattened your fields and raped your wives?" He rounded to the Arl that called this gathering. "You fought with us once, Eamon. You cared about this land once, before you grew too old and fat and content to even see what you risk."

Shiva didn't want to see the man she still intended to spare degrade himself further by continuing his rant. "Then let's settle this honorably," the pirate said with finality.

All outrage slid from his face and he softened into the expression he held when they parted ways at Ostagar outside of Cailan's tent. "Then let us end this. I suppose we both knew it would come to this. A man is made by the quality of his enemies. Maric told me that once. I wonder if it's more a compliment to you or me." He shook himself from whatever reverie he was in. "Enough. Let the Landsmeet declare the terms of the duel."

Bann Alfstanna spoke the rules. "It shall be fought according to tradition. A test of arms, in single combat until one party yields and all of us present will abide by the outcome."

"Will you face me yourself," he asked Alistair, "or have you a champion?"

"Shiva is my champion." The wardens exchanged glances. Shiva gave Alistair a curt bow. She turned to meet Loghain's stare.

"Prepare yourself." His voice whipped through the room as he summoned his energy for the fight. The nobles around them stepped back. After that, for several long seconds all was still and tense.

Loghain's left foot crossed over his right, and across the short distance, Shiva mirrored the movement. They walked around each other in a circle, drawing their weapons after several steps. Once they stood opposite from their original position, Loghian lunged. His shield was held firmly below his chin and his sword pierced toward Shiva's midsection. She jumped back to avoid getting lanced. Before Loghain resumed his stance, Shiva swung her sword to parry his extended weapon and neared to slash at his sword arm with her dagger. He twisted his arm so the dagger did not connect with a weak spot on his bracers. He bashed her with his shield and sent her stumbling back.

_Damn that shield! _

Shiva remembered her fight with Ser Gilmore and Aedan. Ser Gilmore was nowhere near as skilled as Loghain, even when it was two on one. She couldn't use the strategies she employed against them – the area was wide with no props and there was no other combatant to trick into friendly fire. Loghain approached with a wide swing. Shiva split her stance wide to duck under the blade and jumped up, plunging her dagger in the crook where the back of his arm met his back. The blade didn't get far past the armor, but blood started to well up from the wound. He elbowed her away and she retreated to a safer distance.

It was she who charged with her longsword swinging. He parried each new strike – five loud clangs of steel meeting steel. He reversed the tide, five more clangs that she parried as she backed away from his advancement. He didn't hold his shield as firmly, so when she saw an opening, she kicked near the top of it. The edge of his shield collided with his nose. His eyes squeezed shut as the crack of breaking bone was heard. Streams of blood flowed over his lips. With his icy eyes, hair black as midnight, pale skin, and the blood on his mouth, he looked like a vampire. He bared his teeth in a snarl – his canines were not sharpened to match his new look, but he had the fierce hunger for victory.

His eyes watered from his broken nose and he tried to keep his face as still as possible to minimize the pain he felt from it. He tried to give as he received, shoving his weight into the shield and aiming for her face. She ducked once more, downward and left, and hit his jaw with the pommel of her sword. He groaned, turned back quickly and kneed her since she stood so close to him, between his shield and his body. She backed as he slashed once more and connected with the arm that held her dagger. The cut was shallow so she was able to deliver a quick and effective counterattack. Pushing off her back foot, she returned to the close proximity and crossed the dagger to the other side of her body, plunging it into the fisted palm that held his shield. She sent the pommel of her sword into Loghain's face once more, this time into his already broken nose. His head snapped back and blood sprayed straight up into the air from his exhale.

With a groan, he dropped his shield. Blood from his hand pooled into the curve of it like a large bowl. Shiva backed away, waiting for his next move. He was getting angry with her tricks. He swiftly struck with his sword, counting on her parry, and pushed her blade back with extra force he put on his.

He wasn't a man to take cheap shots under normal circumstances, but he squared with himself – that was all he had done the past several months. He curled his stabbed hand into a fist and punched her. She fell to the ground and he neared to stab her. When he was raising his sword, she snapped up to a sitting position, and sunk her blade into his leg above the knee guards. She stood, bringing her dagger up and cutting through the muscle in his leg. His sword was coming down and caught her above the hip as they moved away from each other.

Both cried out at the same time from their simultaneously inflicted wounds. Shiva's shout of pain transformed into a battle cry and she brought her longsword down over her shoulder. Her strike was weakened from the pain in her side, but when Loghain raised his right arm instinctually though he held no shield, the blade cut deeply into his arm – deep enough to cut the vein. Her sword was caught in his bracer and he watched, mesmerized as blood poured from his arm. He was leaning on his right leg since his left was of no use. He felt blood soaking into his boot. His left arm was no use and he would soon bleed to death, even if he could fight through the pain pounding in his face.

His eyes scanned Shiva for the damage he had done. Her arm was bleeding some, but her side was bleeding heavily. He didn't have the strength nor the time to pull off the type of maneuver it would take to finish her. The strain he put on his body to remain on his feet – foot, rather – caused his brows to pinch together. He looked at Shiva, she was giving him the chance to yield. Both of them knew he had no other choice. He rasped and lowered his forearm, moving away from her blade. He was making no more hostile moves. "I underestimated you, warden. I thought you were like Cailan, a child wanting to play at war. I was wrong. There's a strength in you I haven't seen since Maric died. I yield."

Shiva lowered her weapons, speechless. Her eyes moved past Loghain, finding Wynne in the gathering. She jerked her head in a wordless command to heal him, or at the very least seal his wounds. The mage narrowed her eyes in defiance, but when Shiva returned the glare with twice the ire, the mage complied. Loghain did not know what Shiva was searching behind him and didn't expect to feel his wounds begin to mend. The healing was half-hearted, just enough to stop the bleeding but that was all that was needed.

"I accept your surrender." Alistair cocked his head behind her, then stepped forward.

"I didn't just hear you say that. You're letting him live after all he has done?" He had never shown such contempt at any of her decisions before, but she should have told him sooner.

"Now is not the time to throw away soldiers. We need every able hand to defeat the Blight." Shiva was sure of her decision and Loghain did not oppose her decision.

"There is another option." Riordan approach the wardens. "Teyrn Loghain is warrior and general of renown. Let him be of use. Let him go through the Joining. There are only three of us in Ferelden and there are… Compelling reasons to have as many Grey Wardens on hand as possible."

Anora stood beside her wounded father. "The Joining itself is often fatal, is it not? If he lives, you gain a general. If he dies, you have your revenge. Doesn't that satisfy you?" She took a sidelong glance at Shiva.

"Absolutely not!" Alistair shook vehemently. "Riordan, this man abandoned our brothers and then blamed us for the deed. He hunted us down like animals. He tortured you! How can we simply forget that?"

Eamon interjected. "It is the monarch's decision! We must decide who is to rule before Loghain's punishment can be decided."

Anora addressed the nobles. "Under the suggestion of Shiva, the warden who has worked tirelessly to rouse armies against the Blight and victor of the duel, has helped Alistair and myself come to an arrangement. We are to be married. Alistair and I will rule this nation together." The nobles applauded. "Betrothed, I urge you to consider my father's fate objectively."

He snorted. "I'll consider what he did to the last king that was also his son-in-law."

Shiva turned to the soon to be king. "Alistair, reconsider." Her lips were pursed and she fixed him with a determined stare.

He didn't back down. "No. What Riordan suggested is madness. I won't have it."

"Are you speaking as a Grey Warden, or as my king?" The wheels in Shiva's mind were turning. All that mattered was Alistair's response.

"As your king. He will be executed."

"Your Majesty," Shiva began. "I hereby invoke the Grey Warden's Right of Conscription. I remove Loghain into my custody." She could practically hear jaws drop. She hated undermining Alistair's authority immediately after it was declared that he would be king, but he left her no choice.

He shut his eyes slowly. His breath slowly came out in furious gusts. "So be it. But I will not fight alongside him," he turned to glare at the new warden recruit, who had fallen silent. "And I will never call him brother. I will remain in Denerim. You want to stop the Blight with _him_, go right ahead."

Anora's closing speech wasn't audible over the thrum in Shiva's head. She couldn't believe Alistair. Had he actually just resigned from his duties as a Grey Warden? She continued to glare at him but he stared at the floor as his betrothed ended the Landsmeet. With her final words, Shiva launched forward, not waiting for the others to follow.


	20. Well, That Escalated Quickly

Borrowed Time, Ch 20 – Well, That Escalated Quickly

AN: This chapter includes a scene I've played in my heads several times. Very emotional. Actually made me cry one time I thought about it – definitely not proud of that XD Oh, and I found a way to solve the dog's original name problem. You'll see. I got it from Kingdom Hearts.

* * *

The party except Alistair and Shiva were in the main hall at Eamon's estate. Alistair and Eamon were in the study and Shiva was seething in the library. Wynne was healing Loghain's wounds with greater attention than before, since there was a chance he would join them. Everyone else watched.

"Tell us what happened, Circle mage." Morrigan was eyeing Loghain, as were they all, with surprise. The general was still silent. Wynne found it difficult to keep emotions out of her explanation. She despised Loghain long before Ostagar.

Leliana was the first to comment. "It is a relief that Shiva understands necessity and mercy. When we met, she wanted to kill everything that didn't move out of her way fast enough." Loghain finally reacted upon hearing the bard's accent. He did not speak, but dreaded the fact that if he survived the Joining, he would be traveling with an Orlesian.

"So the bloodthirsty warden squished the enemy, then kept it?" Shale's eyebrow pebbles scrunched together trying to make sense of what happened.

Morrigan snorted. "The dimwit is to become king. At least there is a capable woman by his side, though I pity her all the more. Not only will she lead fearful, bleating sheep, but she will be married to the most repugnant of them all."

"Her role would change little if she followed the Qun," Sten uttered, ready to give his first complement ever. "It is our way to take any resource that is considered useful. Including vanquished foes."

They heard heavy footsteps approaching. Alistair entered the room. "Where is she?"

The party exchanged glances. Leliana timidly answered. "She is in the library." The warden quickly turned on his heel and headed toward the door, slamming it shut when he passed through.

* * *

Shiva and Alistair had been arguing in circles for nearly a half hour. Everyone gathered by the door to listen. Zevran had half of his body pressed against the door since it got hard to hear one of them when they paced away from the door. Leliana was beside him, twirling her hair and worrying about her lover. Morrigan sat at the table that was just outside the door, listening with pleasure. Wynne was on the other side of the table, pretending to read a book. Sten and Shale stood against the wall and Loghain was leaning against a post a few feet away. Any and all servants that passed gave the room a wide berth.

Shiva's voice had taken on a gravelly quality. As she grew angrier, her shouts started to sound like snarls. Alistair's responses bellowed. None of the others had ever heard either one get like that.

Shale kept humming occasionally as it pondered. "I wonder which one will squish the other first?" While some of them wondered at the same thing, the shouting within the library continued.

"You told me to go out there, be a man, and take my stand! Then what do you do? Make a bloody fool out of me!" Alistair's hand was splayed on the table opposite where Shiva sat. His other hand was raised, pointing at her. Her arms were crossed.

"You made a damn fool of yourself! You wouldn't listen to the advice Anora and I gave you. You were just so hell-bent on getting your revenge you ignored reason. Know the last person that was beyond reason? Loghain! Know the last person who threw his sodding hands in the air and abandoned his duty? Loghain! While being the proud little bitch that you are, you do the exact same things you judge him over."

Alistair nearly snapped the chunk of table he was gripping. "I am _nothing_ like him. You are destroying everything the Grey Wardens stand for by recruiting him – honor, respect - and it sickens me to the point that I don't want to be a part of it."

"How does that excuse you from fighting? And honor? Are you kidding me? They recruited Duncan because he _murdered_ someone. Duncan recruited me because I murdered _hundreds_ of people! Duncan recruited Daveth because the thieving little shit almost got away with all of Duncan's coin! Grey Warden's recruit blood mages, kinslayers, genocides, but you claim they all have spotless honor? Grey Wardens have nothing to lose! That is why they do their duty. Not honor. That is why _you_ do it, and naïve as you are, you think everyone is as nice and respectable as you. How. Sodding. Cute."

"Don't you dare talk to me like that," he hissed.

"I should have seen your selfishness long ago. I know you simply used Duncan and the Grey Wardens to escape your pathetic, boring life as a templar." Shiva was pacing back and forth in short bursts. "And what else do you do? Use _me_ to get to Loghain because you're a bloody little lost puppy without someone to guide you." She paused at the realization, leaning on a stool and finally noticing the tears that stung her eyes. "You _used_ me. What do I do after all that? Put you ON THE FUCKING THRONE!" She picked up the stool and threw it against the wall behind Alistair. It resounded with a loud 'thwack' and fell to the ground, unimpressive and intact. This increased her agitation since she was hoping for a good shatter and pile of wood.

She leaned on the table across from him with her arms locked, head sagging low. Alistair watched as tears fell to the table and created small dark circles. He heard her swallow, but no other sounds other than the tap of tears falling on wood. He couldn't even hear her breathing. Enraged to the point he had nothing further to say, he left.

Shiva was ashamed. She hadn't cried in front of anyone since her master when he was beating her senseless and she couldn't hold on to that last bit of control. It felt as if he was breaking off pieces of herself then. She felt like a part of her was being ripped away once more. Her words after meeting Goldanna had been the truest she ever said; she would have given anything to have him as a brother, and since then she had always thought of him as one. It was a harsh reminder that he wasn't – the way he could so easily break away from her. There was an ache behind her eyes that was brought on by the argument and the pain in her chest.

The tears stopped falling. Doing as she always had, she would take solace in something productive. Moving forward – that's what always helped. She needed to speak to Riordan about Loghain's joining. Shiva stepped out of the library, not expecting to see everyone still gathered there. Leliana stepped forward and took Shiva's hand in hers. With the bard so close and looking directly at her face, she probably knew she had been crying.

"Tis your own fault for coddling him as you have." Morrigan's smug voice snipped the past thread of Shiva's patience. She whirled on the witch and bent to loom over her.

"I did nothing to instill his sense of self-righteousness, that was there long before I met him. His starry eyed, naïve ideas were his own doing, likely not removed from his tiny sodding brain after childhood. I stand by my decision to treat him the way I did because not everyone is resilient enough to learn lessons the way you did, Morrigan. Do not blame me for his foolishness. If you want to question my decisions, question something tactical. Keep in mind you know _nothing_ about leadership." She spoke quickly with ever raising volume, her crests of emphasis showed her growing disdain of Morrigan's opinion that she had previously kept to herself. After her rant, she stormed off before she slapped the mana out of her.

* * *

Loghain waited in the middle of Arl Eamon's study, watching Riordan as he prepared the Joining juice. Shiva was leaning on the wall by the door with her arms crossed.

"Assuming you survive, you and I will have an accord. Understand? That means remove the bounty or I'll do it for you and shove it straight up your ass." It came out harsher than she meant, but she couldn't help it. She was still furious. Loghain turned to glare at her and saw a playful twinkle in her eyes.

"You're standing here then, praying this does claim my life?"

"No," she denied. "I stand here because it's tradition. Because from the Landsmeet forward, we take action against this Blight for the sake of the country, side-by-side. The whole brother in arms thing."

"You accept that it cost you your puppet," he drawled.

"Dismiss whatever misconceptions you have about what I intended for Alistair. I'd rather he not have Theirin blood. He should-" she paused and grit her teeth. Her hands clenched and shook as she held her breath. "Never mind. We can speak of this later, if we must. For now, there are more pressing matters."

"Indeed," Riordan agreed. He turned with the goblet in his hands. "We are ready for the Joining." Loghain shifted his balance, standing evenly on both legs.

"You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good." Riordan skipped the customary prayer and history lesson. "From this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden."

Loghain took the chalice in his hands, not peering into it, instead locking his eyes with a far off spot on the wall behind the senior warden. "I… understand." He put the goblet to his lips as soon as he uttered the final syllable. Both wardens present prayed that it wouldn't be his last.

The general swayed as soon as he lowered the goblet. Riordan saw his eyes flash white as Loghain received his first vision of the Archdemon. A few wobbly steps to his right, then some to his left as he tried to stabilize himself. He toppled forward. The chalice bounced away from him and the last few drops of darkspawn blood dripped into the cornflower blue carpet. Shiva approached him, feeling his neck for a pulse.

"He will live." She glanced up at Riordan who watched with complete calm. Her hand lingered on his neck as she watched his breathing sway the lock of hair that draped over his face.

_For better or worse. _

* * *

Shiva sat in the kitchens in her white tunic and worn leather trousers. She was nursing the bottle of West Hill Brandy she found in the hidden compartment of a liquor cabinet. She had thought about drinking the Golden Scythe, but wanted to save that for a special occasion. Not one spoiled by such despair.

She had only slept about three hours. That night she had the worst nightmares since her Joining. She guessed it was because of Loghain and the intensity of his visions after his induction to the order. She didn't envy him – he had just officially entered his death sentence. He was much older than most recruits. They took in recruits just out of their teens – even Shiva was older than they usually were. She was a few years older than the queen.

The pirate realized she was worried about Loghain. Losing Alistair was a fresh wound; her heart was still heavy from their argument. Losing Loghain would be an odd sensation on top of that. She wondered what it would be like having such a successful and well renowned warrior on their side. He was one of the most influential men in the country – _the_ most influential man if Theirins weren't counted. She hoped they could fall into some sort of comfortable arrangement. She already had to watch her back with Sten, Zevran, and Morrigan. Wynne wasn't entirely supportive anymore either since the Landsmeet. The old woman looked at her differently. Coldly and with disappointment. She tried to think if there was anyone she could trust.

A huffing noise caught her attention. She looked down to see large brown eyes staring at her. Loki's muzzle was parted, showing his teeth and a long pink tongue that heaved with his panting. She scratched him between the ears; the hound sat attentively and rested his head on her lap. At her sigh, Loki whined. Earlier Alistair walked past the hound as coldly as he would have to Shiva, and the dog could feel the ache from his new master.

Shiva felt a warmth that came from neither dog nor drink. Loghain entered the kitchens. He hesitated when he saw her. Loki turned around and quietly woofed. The hound was looking forward to having a new friend.

"Join me for a drink?" Shiva didn't need to see him to know it was the newest warden. He had a different step from Alistair and Riordan. Alistair had been stomping around like a child and Riordan had the same glide as Duncan did. Loghain stepped with the might of a warrior and the agility of a rogue at the same time. Shiva often studied people from their movements rather than their faces and his were unique.

He approached the table slowly, rounding to get a glass before sitting at the end of the table beside her. She glanced at his face as she poured. He was entirely different. The dark circles around his eyes were gone and color had returned to his face. He didn't wear the heavy armor. Instead he was dressed in a sage tunic, black trousers and simple long-toed shoes.

"Why are you smiling like that," he groused.

"I've never seen someone look better after their Joining." He did look better – it was easier to tell how handsome he was. His flaws were obvious, but he was still remarkably attractive, and somehow much more human. He grunted and took a sip from his glass. They sat in silence for a few moments.

"I passed your test. Fate has a twisted sense of humor, it seems. I suppose you think I'm some sort of monster. More so since I've survived your ritual: you keep striking me and I just refuse to die decently."

"There isn't a decent thing about you." After she got that remark out of her system, she grew serious. She could tell she was probably annoying to him. "If I wanted you dead I would have let you bleed to death. Or I would have let Alistair behead you in front of your daughter. Why would I pass those up if I wanted you dead? A quiet death in the back room with only one witness is anticlimactic compared to those."

"Appearances," was all he said. At her furrowed brows, he clarified. "It could have been a show of mercy to the nobles. Another one of your tricks to get what you want out of them."

"Oh, sod." She rolled her eyes. Her father was just as suspicious. She knew there was no convincing him on the matter.

"I think it's time to get to the point. What do you want from me? You already got a sizeable amount of coin, or have you spent it already?" She actually had spent most of it on the qunari powder. She watched him closely.

"What do you want?"

He started at her response. "What I want? What an odd question… I want to sit in the war room and find no empty chairs at the table. I want to lose nothing else. I want a line, clearly drawn, that I can defend. I want an end to this war. All of this can rightly be called my fault. Whether or not you can do better remains to be seen. But if you can make this the end, Warden, I will follow you. I swear it."

The intensity of his admission caught her off guard. "I… can work with that. All I wanted is for the path you've been treading since Ostagar to end. I won't try to understand what you were thinking, there is no point in that. I will also not attempt to discern your character by your actions these months. I will be as misled by them as the tall tales about you from the Rebellion."

"You're wiser than you look," he mused. "But just like that, we're allies? I can't imagine it so simple."

She snorted. "Half the misfits that follow me are untrustworthy, more so than you. You and I have similar goals. We want what's best for Ferelden. And I need someone that knows what he's doing. I would value any advice you have when you foresee a misstep. You don't seem like you'd hesitate to point out when I'm wrong, or wouldn't you?" Her smirk was back, shadowed by a raised eyebrow.

"Indeed I would, but would you even listen? You've made it clear how wrong you think I've been lately."

"Do you disagree?" He huffed in response and finished his drink. She passed him the bottle so he could fill his glass at his own pace and continued to drink her own. Loki was wriggling next to her. He was looking at her expectantly, wagging his stumpy tail with enough force to move his whole body. "Oh, go on, mutt," she commanded. "Say hello."

Loki sniffed and walked over to Loghain. Shiva wondered if he would snap, but his expression softened when he patted the dog on the back of the head and scratched.

"Ever met before?" She questioned the dog. He gave his usual affirmative bark. Loghain raised a brow at her. "He belonged to the Couslands before me."

"Oh? Aedan had a Mabari, if I remember correctly." The dog barked once more at the mention of his late master.

"Wouldn't happen to know what he called him, would you?" It was something she always wondered. Loghain paused, thinking.

"Ansem, I believe." Another bark.

"Ansem…" She bent to get the dog's attention. "Which name do you prefer?" The hound trotted to her and licked her hand. She laughed. "Loki it is."

"How did you come to acquire the Cousland's Mabari?"

"Duncan and I were there when Howe slaughtered them. We got out, but none of the Couslands made it. There was a chance that we could've gotten out with the Teyrna and Elissa, but they refused. He's the only one who made it."

"Huh." A silence stretched for several minutes after that, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

The warmth that radiated from him was strong, Shiva noticed. More than Alistair, and similar to Duncan and Riordan. She wondered if with older age there was some sort of greater absorption of taint. "You feel different, I'll bet."

He grunted, she took that as a yes. It didn't seem like he was going to elaborate. "This… tingling warmth that comes and goes…"

"That's you sensing other wardens." She put her hand on his arm. "Is it more intense now?" Her hands were cold, so he couldn't explain the warmth from her touch by anything other than the taint they shared. He swallowed, wondering how this was the same woman that he dueled earlier that day. The same hand that was on him had struck with lightening speed and maimed his left arm and leg, and had broken his nose. Now, the touch was gentle; as he would expect from an old healer, other than Wynne. The old mage would probably try to break his arm with her bony hands. He finally nodded. "It's not the same when darkspawn are near. The heat is sharp, like needles. You'll see." She removed her hand from his arm and tucked it behind her other elbow. The way she leaned over her arm on the table caused her breasts to press against it. Loghain averted his eyes.

"It eventually becomes too much, doesn't it?"

Shiva sadly confirmed. "I don't know how much time you have left. Hopefully there are still several years yet." Loghain was still surprised she wanted him alive. Had he won the duel, he wouldn't have hesitated before ordering her execution. He would have normally seen this as blind compassion, but with her he could tell she saw him as useful.

"You're a poor liar, you know. That's kind of you to say all the same." He sighed and took another sip of brandy.

He noticed a warmth pooling along his back. "Can you feel that?" Shiva asked.

He nodded. "Riordan, I'm guessing?" The senior warden entered the room, just as the general had called.

"You're both here. Good. There is something I wish to discuss with you. Alistair told me you had not been informed about why Grey Wardens are necessary. I'm surprised even he didn't know." He declined the drink he was offered.

"More good news, I take it?" Shiva was finally going to get the answer she needed since before her Joining. She very much disliked the secrecy.

Riordan did not respond to her question with anything other than a doleful look. "Do either of you know how an Archdemon is slain?"

Loghain frowned at the Orlesian warden. "I take it there's more to it than a sword through the skull?"

"The Archdemon may be slain as any other darkspawn, but if anyone other than a Grey Warden does it, that will not be enough. Upon death, the soul of the Archdemon will be released and will enter the nearest darkspawn. In essence, it is reborn. The darkspawn are empty, soulless vessels, but Grey Wardens are not. When the Archdemon's soul enters the Grey Warden, both souls are destroyed."

Loghain leaned back, sitting straighter at the news. "So the Grey Warden that slays the Archdemon perishes."

"Yes. Without the Archdemon, the Blight ends. It is the only way."

Considering all she had seen, Shiva wasn't disturbed. It would be a noble end. "How do we decide who is to be sacrificed?"

"In Blights past, the eldest of the Grey Wardens would decide amongst themselves who would deliver the final blow. Since I am the eldest, that falls to me. If I fail, it is up to the two of you."

"Hmph, four chances." Shiva ran her fingers through her hair, massaging her head at the most recent blow against her awful day. "I take it Alistair knows?"

"No, he was called away before I could tell him. He told me he would remain at the castle from this point forward. He is no longer with us."

"Selfish little shit."

"You should have seen that sooner," Loghain declared.

Shiva bit her tongue, keeping her snappy remark back. "I know." Her voice was thick with emotion.

Riordan shuffled where he stood. "I understand, Shiva, you still have to see the dwarves about sending their army against the Blight. If you deem it worthy, there is another task for you on your way to Orzammar."

"Let's hear it."

"Duncan was approached by a man named Levi Dryden. He is a descendant of the late Warden-Commander, Sophia Dryden. He wants to travel to Soldier's Peak, which is an old fortress once belonging to the Grey Wardens, in search of evidence to clear his family's reputation. He has offered the Peak to the Grey Wardens in exchange for the escort. He knows the way but does not know what dangers may await there."

Loghain rubbed at his chin. "I know of the area. It's beyond a labyrinth of mining tunnels. This Dryden fellow better know the way like he says, and I mean he better."

"He will be staying at the Gnawed Noble for the next two nights. If you wish to undertake this mission, see him there. Now I must bid the two of you goodnight. It has been a long day." Both wardens grumbled in agreement. Shiva rose and stretched.

"I'm going to hit the hay too. I'm ready for this Maker forsaken day to be over." She patted her leg for Loki to follow. "Good night, Loghain." Her hand brushed his shoulder as she passed by him.

He hummed. Reconsidering and deciding to give her a better farewell, he muttered, "Good night." Loki gave his leg a nudge, begging for another pat and scratch for the night. Loghain obliged, saving his smile for the hound's eyes alone. "Run along, boy." The dog gave his hand a lick before he trotted off behind his mistress.

Loghain sighed. He had no idea what he was in for. Speaking with Shiva made him realize she was nothing like he thought. Her impish ways were a front that guarded a sharp, dexterous woman with as much determination as he. It grated on his nerves that he already had a lot to thank her for – his daughter remaining on the throne and his life being just the start. Lucky for him, Maric's whelp wouldn't be traveling with them. It was bad enough Wynne, the Orlesian, and the assassin were in the mix. He didn't know what to make of the qunari, witch, and the golem. The only one that he knew wouldn't treat him like an outsider was the Mabari.

All he could do was try to get back to sleep since the nightmares wore off long ago, and try to sleep through the rest of the horrid day, just as Shiva said. He would have to see what tomorrow brought.


	21. Enough

Borrowed Time, Ch 21 – Enough

AN: Woohoo! Loghain is officially one of the party members. Took long enough, right?! Sorry fellow Mac Tir lovers -.- It made me wiggle with impatientness too… This one's alotta babble, btw. Next one will have action again, I promise. Did some fun research about Middle Ages' scents – rosemary n stuff.

* * *

Surprisingly, Shiva was able to rest easy after her drink and talk with her fellow wardens. She loved that she didn't get hangovers – together, she and Loghain had demolished more than half the bottle and she drank twice as much as he. The morning wouldn't be near as hopeful if she had to spend it nursing an aching head and a nauseous stomach. Her stretching was cramped by a large, solid mass at the foot of the bed. Loki picked his drowsy head up and peered at her after he was kicked. As an apology, she flopped near enough to him to pet him. He rolled so they were lying face-to-face.

"Lazy mutt." Said mutt yawned in her face. She was repelled enough by his breath to get out of bed. She called a servant to fetch some water for a bath.

When she entered the room where breakfast was laid out, Wynne suddenly decided she was finished. The mage stiffly passed Shiva without a glance. The pirate paid the old biddy no mind. She was watching Leliana irritate Loghain. Zevran was sitting close to the general.

"The best way to remember someone is to think of the happy times you shared," the bard lisped. "You knew Cailan since he was small, surely you can think of at least one nice story."

"The only time I think of Cailan is when I remember his fool move at Ostagar and how my daughter and I have been the ones to pay for it." He groused. He gave the bard a livid stare. The plate in front of him lay half eaten - probably when he abandoned it in annoyance concerning Leliana's persistent questions.

"Let the man eat in peace, woman," Shiva joked.

"No one wants to share their tales with me," she pouted.

Shiva's eyes gleamed. "What are you talking about? All I do is share my tail with you."

Leliana cocked her head, then erupted into a fit of giggles. "No! Not tail, tales! I can't believe you are so lewd this early in the morning." Loghain looked on with a raised brow.

"It is never too early to be lewd," the Antivan purred.

"You have a weakness for bread, don't you, my love? You should try this one," she reached for a slice that had a glaze on a golden brown crust. The center was soft and still warm. She tore some and put it in her own mouth. "It's covered in honey. Have a taste." When Shiva reached for it, Leliana intercepted by kissing her. "Like it?"

"Pfft, how should I know, only letting me have the crumbs on your lips. Get out of my way, you stingy cow."

"Cow?" She squeaked. "That is so rude. I can't believe you talk to me like that." Shiva shook her head at the woman's genuine anger.

"You know I didn't mean-"

"Then you shouldn't say it." She rose and whisked out of the room. Shiva watched with wide eyes as she greedily chewed on the piece of bread - which was delicious.

Zevran tutted at her. "Too bad you so blatantly insulted her. I was about to offer coin for the chance of seeing the two of you kiss again."

"Heh, there will be no kissing for a while unless I can get her to forgive me. It'll probably take a gift. What do girls like?"

Zev laughed. "You are a woman yourself and you don't know?"

"I like weapons, food, liquor, and dirty prose. Not poetry, for sod's sake! I highly doubt the little flower would-" she gasped, slapping her forehead. "Flowers! Of course. You, my prickly-eared friend, are a genius. Although, now that she's gone, I daresay the general's disposition has gotten considerably more relaxed." She cast a sidelong glance at the man.

"Let's just say you won't hear me complain." He resumed wolfing down his food.

* * *

Everyone was packed and ready to go. Shiva had gone to the Gnawed Noble with Sten, Wynne, and Leliana to meet their guide. Levi was an attractive, lean and friendly merchant. He spoke at length about his family and what it was that gave them a bad reputation. He also offered to trade whatever they wished on the way to the Peak since he would be bringing a carriage with his wares. He would meet them outside the city in an hour.

When they left the tavern, Leliana looked around and snapped her fingers, remembering something. "We found more drake scales on the way here from Redcliff! I meant to go and see Master Wade about making another set of armor. He expressed that he was dissatisfied with his craftsmanship on his last piece and would like to try again. I have them with me; it won't take long."

"Go ahead then, and take Sten with you." It wasn't likely they'd come across anyone hostile, but she'd rather be safe than sorry. The bard and qunari headed to the smithy, leaving Shiva alone with Wynne.

"You can't give me the silent treatment forever, you know." Shiva dusted her greaves, trying to be nonchalant about her attempt to make peace, which she half expected to fail.

"I'm not giving you the silent treatment, dear." Wynne didn't look at her. Her mouth pressed shut as soon as she was finished talking, but she was right. It wasn't a silent treatment. It was pretty close to it, though.

"I would rather you express whatever has you displeased with me. Well, at least whatever's at the top of the list. I imagine there's plenty since you've learned more about me."

"I am not displeased with you. I am simply uneasy about traveling with Loghain, and I do not think you thought that through." The mage still seemed as though the moldy barrel next to the scholar's house she was staring at was more interesting than facing Shiva while they conversed. Two could play that game – Shiva was staring towards the market stalls.

"He retreated, leaving hundreds to be torn apart and eaten by darkspawn, including his own son-in-law and my Commander. He marched his silverite covered ass straight to the throne and claimed regency. He allied himself with Howe, who was the only man in the country worse than Loghain himself. He hired a blood mage to poison Arl Eamon since he was the greatest threat among the nobles. He started a civil war. He hired an assassin to kill me and Alistair. He sold slaves to Tevinter for coin to fund the war. All of this means he will most likely betray me as soon as he sees the opportunity to question my authority. He is untrustworthy, cold, selfish, paranoid, and power-mad. Did I miss anything?" She had to take a look at him through Wynne's eyes for that profile. Where most saw coldness, Shiva saw he was objective. Where most saw he was paranoid, she saw caution that helped him survive and be as strong and sharp as he is. As for his actions, she did not agree with them. She would never use poison to do more than gain a slight advantage, certainly not a stealth kill. To her, it was weak and cowardly. She did not approve of slavery, but she knew what the Alienage was like. Slavery would be an improvement for some of them, for not all masters were like hers. Very few, in fact.

Wynne sighed. "No, those are all his deeds that I know of, but that is not my point. You are our leader, you should not take such risks and expose those who follow you to such a potentially harmful outcome that you yourself implied was likely."

"You fear for your own safety, then? I watch everyone to see if one will strike out. You think this is suddenly a problem with Loghain joining? What about Zevran? Do you trust him? I sure don't. But he has taken out nearly 30 demons and more than three times as many bandits and soldiers. What about Morrigan? I had an obligation to bring her. She is open about her disdain for all things outside herself and the ground she walks on. I don't know why they truly remain with me. I do know that Loghain has been stripped of his title, his army is under Ser Cauthrien now, and he is a Grey Warden, meaning I am his superior."

"As was King Cailan," the mage coarsely reminded.

"Cailan was a fool!" she snapped. Wynne finally faced her, open mouth and evident shock faded away to narrowed eyes and a breath to launch some retort. "We will speak no further of this." Shiva ended it before it truly began. She was right – that failed.

* * *

Anora stood in Arl Eamon's estate to bid the warden and her father farewell. The queen's hands were clasped before her and Loghain stood stiffly since people were running by, to and fro. "Father, shall we find another room? Considering how the past few days have been, I do not wish to part like strangers would." Loghain nodded and walked to the guest rooms, entering the one farthest down the left hall. They stood just inside. "Father, are you alright? You seem… healthier after the Joining but I know such is not the case."

Loghain put his hands on Anora's shoulders. "I'm fine, Anora. Don't worry about me. Worry about that whelp you'll be marrying. Did you truly agree to that?"

She nodded. "I did. I could hardly argue that it was the best compromise after Shiva's explanation. We could afford no more antagonism and with his leadership at the Landsmeet, I fear my position would have been in jeopardy otherwise."

Loghain groaned, taking his hands off of Anora's shoulders and crossing them over his breastplate. His chin dipped into the v-shaped cleft in his armor when he lowered his head to glower at the floor.

"Do you trust the warden?" the queen asked.

"I'm unsure. I don't entirely know what to make of her yet, and trust cannot be gained so quickly. She and I were bitter enemies yesterday. There is still friction between us, I don't expect that to go away – at least not anytime soon. She is clear in her intentions, I'll give her that. I was wrong in guessing she wanted to control Alistair when he became king – I can see she is not that ambitious. She's also not as vindictive as I thought. I believed she wanted me to become a Grey Warden, hoping either I'd die during the Joining or become some trophy, but she expressed what she wanted out of this was my skill set on the battle field under her charge." He sighed and loosened one of his hands from their tight cross to pinch the bridge of his nose. "That doesn't mean she is capable or trustworthy. I shall simply pray that she is."

"You've learned much about her in a short time." Anora watched her father with worry.

"She and I had a talk last night."

"Was it enlightening?"

"A bit."

"I wanted to speak to her before all of you leave. No matter how we look at it, we have much to thank her for."

Loghain grunted. "I'll thank her later. I don't know where she'll be dragging me. For now, you owe me a proper good bye."

Anora chuckled. "Expect to be dragged to the Black City and back, father. Some of her followers said she is constantly on the move."

"I suppose I shouldn't complain. There's a chance my time won't be wasted, but I'll know soon. Come, child. Give your father a hug." Anora smiled and embraced him. She was tiny compared to him, especially in his armor. She had expressed she hated hugging him when he wore it; it was always so cold.

With that said and done, they headed back to the atrium. They didn't make it halfway down the hall before Leliana and Wynne emerged from the guest room and headed the same direction with their noses in the air. Shiva exited the room after them.

"Sodding get over yourselves, wouldja?" She swatted the air in their direction without seeing Anora and Loghain. Her pack got the heat of her anger when she jerkily adjusted it where it was slung over her shoulder. Loghain didn't want to admit how much he was taking pleasure in her flustered state. Anora cleared her throat beside him.

Shiva turned to them with no surprise. "Your Majesty," she acknowledged. "and you," she nodded to Loghain with the ghost of a smirk.

"Warden, I'm glad I caught you. I wanted to thank you for all you have done for me and this country. I cannot say that my father and I could have even pulled off what you did yesterday. Certainly not Alistair. I have a feeling that even his impressive conduct at the beginning of the Landsmeet was thanks to your influence."

Shiva tutted. "Yeah, at the _beginning_ of the Landsmeet." She said it to herself, but not hiding it from their ears. "I only did what I thought was best," she shrugged.

Beside Anora, Loghain gave less praise. "If you can keep it up, we may have a chance."

"We'll see." Shiva's mood was darker than his at the moment.

* * *

Five hours into their journey, they came across a massive bandit camp. They were outnumbered three to one, but Shiva's followers each had twice the skill of every group of three bandits combined. Shiva watched as Loghain fought alongside Sten. The warriors were a massive force all on their own, crushing the bandits before them. Loghain was swift, where Sten was simply frightening. The bandits that would cower from Sten would find themselves cut down by Loghain's blade. The ones that managed to dodge Loghain's lightning fast attacks were cut down by Sten.

Morrigan, Wynne, and Leliana stood with their backs to each other in the center clearing. They shot waves of energy, balls of fire and ice, and arrows to the bandits that skirted the area. Shiva and Zev incised bandits left and right. They would be weak from blood loss before they knew how much damage they actually took. Loki bit bandits' legs as they ran by and Shale finished them off by stomping their heads or torsos.

Eventually, all of them stood near five to eight dead bodies, breathing heavy with bloodied clothes and weapons. Levi peeked over the boulder that served as his hiding place when all grew silent.

* * *

The spin of the silver medallion was mesmerizing. The traces of darkspawn blood that swirled within held Shiva's attention like blood magic. The pendant dangled from the delicate silver chain she held in her fingers. Her arm was poised above her head so the amulet could hang right in front of her eyes. The campfire behind it caused the edges to glint and twinkle.

She didn't care so much that it was supposed to remind her of Jory, Daveth, Leske. It reminded her of Alistair. He was the one that had given it to her. The reverence in his voice when he explained it still echoed in her ears. Maker, she missed him.

She realized she had taken on his worst habit – wallowing in self-pity.

_Enough. _

Shiva put the Warden's Oath around her neck. She thought Loghain should have had one, but being a warden didn't mean anything to him – except that he was going to die. He joined the order that he lost to. To give him a reminder was petty. Pettier than she felt like being to him. Thanks to Leliana and Wynne, there was no need for another trivial tantrum.

Her hand was covering her mouth, in the same thinking position Duncan mastered. She was deciding who to talk to. Everyone in the camp was minding their own business. Zevran squatted near her, arranging small pebbles in mindless boredom. Leliana was past him, looking at the stars and humming some tune. Wynne sat on her pack so she didn't have to stand or sit on the hard ground, reading a small book she carried with her – no doubt for the hundredth time. Sten was on the opposite side of them, with his back to the fire, as if his blade was in more dire need of warmth than he. Morrigan was far off, as usual. She squatted by her own fire, arms outstretched toward it to warm her hands. Shale stood near Loki, staring at the dog. Considering stomping the hound into a puddle of blood and fur, most likely. Shiva had already warned him that if it did, she would have Morrigan shapeshift into a bird and shit on him until he dissolved from the excrement.

Loghain set his tent near where Alistair would have. It made sense; that was the remaining open spot near the fire. Unless he made his own fire, like Morrigan or better yet, tried to steal Morrigan's. She could imagine the uproar that would cause. It would be delightfully entertaining.

When Shiva realized she was smirking at the fire she pursed her lips to hide it. She heard Loghain emerge from his tent. He had the flap of his tent rolled up, using his bedroll as a table as he unrolled some parchment and set the quill to it. He made various marks that she couldn't see from where she sat. It took a few minutes to realize he was adding to a map. The quill stilled. "Is there something about me that captivates you, Warden?" His eyes slowly rolled to peer back at her. "If not, I would appreciate it if you stopped staring. It makes me twitch." She giggled, imagining his irritation when a twitch made him add extra curves to a road or river.

"Maybe I have a map fetish. Would you deny me the enjoyment of watching?"

"And people say my admiration for them surpasses the ordinary." He snorted.

"We should start a club. We could have cookies." At the word 'cookies' Sten's head cocked just enough to turn his ear to them.

"Cookies," Loghain quoted.

"May I?" Shiva neither moved nor clarified. Loghain simply jerked a shoulder. She assumed that was a shrug and moved nearer for a better look at his work.

She could tell from the map he had zero artistic ability, but through months or years of repetition, he learned to portray the land well. The Frostback Mountains seemed to bulge from the surface of the parchment. The Korcari Wilds and the uncharted lands sprawling south appeared to sink into the shading. The Brecilian Forest next to it was bristly to show the coverage of woodland.

Loghain stopped, seeing that her brows were furrowed and her finger was touching her lips. He noticed she no longer looked like she was in her twenties. "Do you see a mistake?" He doubted that, he knew the lands like no other.

Her hair swayed when she shook her head 'no.' The movement caused the scent of her hair to faintly wash past him. The warden didn't seem prim, so he assumed she was treated with special soaps and hair washes at Eamon's. He overheard Anora and Erlina speaking about rosemary, cloves, nutmeg and whatever else they felt like sprinkling into their hair. He found it odd, but now understood the appeal when he smelled sage with a hint of rosewater.

"How many have you made?" He was grateful for the distraction. Even if it was her prattle.

"Dozens… A hundred, maybe."

"Sell any?"

"Why? Are you lost?" he retorted. She rolled her eyes.

"No, asshole." The way her lip quirked made him mind the insult less. "I thought it would be interesting if I owned one from you and didn't know it. Not that I have any but one land map, and unless you are way older than you look, you didn't sketch it."

"How old are we talking here?" She gestured for him to wait before heading to her own tent. As he waited, he noticed the assassin ogling her backside as she bent to get her map case.

"Feast your eyes on this." She removed a brittle parchment from her case and rolled it out in front of him. He had cleared the space of his own sketches to see what she really had and expected it to be an ancient style and not that old at all. Any attempt of his to hide his surprise would have failed spectacularly.

"It's centuries old." His fingers caressed the edges of the parchment.

"Over a millennia, actually. From the first Blight." She confirmed. "They drew the landscape and added Weisshaupt years later when it was founded. I found the map with an old journal." She pulled it from her satchel and set it beside the map. He glanced at the journal, far less interested in it.

"No wonder it's in such poor shape then."

"I know little about proper map upkeep."

"Barbarian." A slight smile tugged at his mouth.

"Do enlighten me, o scholarly one," she quipped.

"How long has it been in that case of yours? Is that leather? No good. Find somewhere wooden, or metal. If it absolutely must be rolled, lie it flat on a cloth made of cotton and roll them together. Don't want the parchment sticking to others and tearing. You should also get some powder - the oil from your fingers when you touch it could affect the inks. Store it somewhere cool and dry. Check on it regularly to see if the paper reacts to the environment or if it attracts vermin that like to chew on such things. Look here, mold!" He scowled at a fibrous rise on the underside of the bottom left corner.

"Err, keep in mind it's been in the Grey Warden cache for Maker knows how long - unless you truly insist on biting my head off over the condition it was in prior to my obtaining it." He gently wiped at the mold, petting it away. "It seems like you should be the one to have this." He gawked at her, incredulous.

"Nonsense. It's worth about twenty sovereigns if you find the right collector, and that's being stingy."

"You're saying if I offered you would not accept it? That's hardly a thing a true appreciator of cartography would do. It would get damaged in my possession! It'll rip, have ale and bread crumbs spilled all over it! Dog drool!" Her teasing was merciless.

"Maker's breath, if you insist so much..." He was shaking his head, on the verge of giving her a genuine smile.

"Good. If you are still hesitant about accepting it, just remember how much I've taken from you and consider this a start for paying you back."

"Heh, believe me, I haven't forgotten that. I caught on soon, considering how suspicious you looked, you know. I simply thought it would be an attempt on my life and not emptying my coinpurse."

Shiva laughed. "Consider it a deposit. You will be compensated, Loghain. I promise."

He took a cylindrical container and cloth from the pack by his feet. The container was for some powder, which he sprinkled all over the map. The cloth was placed under the map. He flipped the end of the rag over the edge of the parchment and began to roll it up. "If you're going to keep spoiling me with maps, I believe you." He stopped, smiled. "Thank you. Last thing I expected on my first day as a warden was a gift. From the woman that nearly killed me yesterday, no less."

She smiled back. "I wouldn't expect to get spoiled, but I try. And you're welcome." She squirmed as the silence drew on. "Well, since you ran our cook off, I'd better go find something for us to eat."

"If there's another thing I could ask of you, allow me to hunt tonight. I'm eager to get away from everyone's stares." Shiva looked at everyone else, not noticing before how they treated him.

"Sure. Would you want to go alone or would you rather a furry companion go with you?"

He chuckled. "I wouldn't mind the hound. It's been a while since I hunted with a Mabari."

"I'll send him over." She walked away and Loghain disappeared into his tent with the map.

Within, Loghain reverently put the map in his case, mentally swearing he'd find it a more suitable place as soon as he had the chance. At least they were going places where the weather wouldn't be too disagreeable for decent parchment preservation. The peak was sure to be cold and crisp, as were the Frostback Mountains, and the Deep Roads were dry.

With that put away, he bent to his other pack, removing black dyed leathers he hadn't had the chance to wear in years. He removed the chevalier plate, setting it aside, as well as the rest of the armor and donned his old leathers. He stretched to test the feel once more and felt light. He grabbed his longbow and emerged from the tent.

A wide, panting doggy grin greeted him. He didn't need to be behind the hound to know his tail was wagging. "Come," he commanded. The general and Mabari headed for the line of trees that surrounded the eastern side of camp.

Shiva was surprised when Loghain came out of his tent looking like the fabric of darkness. His leathers were as dark and course as his mane. They hugged his body hypnotically. The chevalier plate did nothing to show off the man beneath - it was symbolic of a great accomplishment, which was fine and dandy, but that was no longer relevant. The Orlesians were not a threat at the moment, the darkspawn were, and that armor didn't impress them.

That body impressed Shiva, though. She was aware he was tall - when she fought him at the Landsmeet and was near him, she reached his chin. But the armor was wide, so it wasn't as striking from afar. Not until he was looming over you did you realize how great was his size, for someone who was not qunari.

His chest was broad and his hips close to slender. She had to avert her eyes before he noticed her staring. She couldn't help but turn back and keep watching as he walked into the forest. It was as if he became the shadows before he even reached them.

* * *

Loghain had brought three geese he hunted by a nearby pond and held out the already prepared carcasses to Shiva. "Don't let him try to extort any food from you." He pointed to Loki, who was drooling behind him. The hound plopped to scratch his neck, completely unruffled about the warning. "He's already had his supper."

Shiva took the geese, raking her eyes over Loghain's body while the newest warden watched the dog. Their meal that night was vastly more flavorful than Alistair's famous grey mush.


	22. Piqued at the Peak

Borrowed Time, Ch 22 – Piqued at the Peak

AN: Writers block -.- Luckily I got ahead with the chapters so I had plenty to post…

* * *

The mining tunnels they entered were supposedly similar to Deep Roads, minus the darkspawn. They would be able to compare once the detour was over and they would continue to Orzammar. Levi led them through as he said, but the moving was sluggish since they had to slow their pace for his cart. He also tired easily. More times than Shiva deemed truly necessary, they stopped to allow the merchant to nap. He practically shut down when she confronted him about it. So much for speeding things up. It wasn't like there was a Blight to deal with or anything. His naps would stretch from ten to thirty minutes. After each one, he was ready to surge forward another several bends in the tunnel until he resumed his usual uncertainty.

The air was considerably colder than it had been the past few days. It was obvious they were heading up the mountain by then, and Levi said they were getting near the exit. They walked in silence most of the time, the loudest noise was Shale's footsteps. Loghain and Sten were just as loud when the racket from their armor was combined. Sten was at the rear, while Loghain and Shale were walking side by side near the head of the group. The general glanced at the golem beside him several times before speaking his mind. "I saw a golem like you once. Back when I was fighting in the army with Maric, many years ago."

"Good for it," the golem retorted.

"Could you be the same creature? You were more servile, then. The pet of a mage in Arl Rendorn's employ."

"Do I strike it as servile?" Shale turned its head downwards to glare at Loghain as they continued walking.

"Not at all. Perhaps I am mistaken. I would no doubt remember such sarcasm."

Shiva had slowed to walk beside Loghain, scratching her chin as she thought about their connection. "But didn't you say the mage Wilhelm was your master, Shale? Was this not the same Wilhelm that was in the war?"

"It was the mage Wilhelm," Shale answered. "So our paths must have crossed. I remember little from that time, but it has been coming back to me. The one it calls Maric, did it resemble the spineless warden that is to be king? I find that all humans look alike, but them I truly cannot tell a difference."

"Yes," Loghain grumbled. "That is because Alistair is Maric's son. His sons an he share a great deal of resemblance."

"I remember there was a great relief when the one it calls Maric was found to be alive. It was being followed by a small, unhappy looking bandit. Could it have been it?" Shale raised an eyebrow pebble, scrutinizing Loghain's features to the best of its ability.

"Ah, you do remember me."

Shiva had been listening with great interest. "Bandit?!" Loghain scoffed at her as she lit up at the discovery.

"That's a story for another time." He couldn't be more of a tease if he tried. On second thought, he totally could, but Shiva wasn't about to give him any ideas.

"Aww," she made no effort to hide her disappointment. He was a strong, respectable man and she thought of how he looked in his leather armor the night before. It had been odd, but that was probably something he kept from his earlier days. It definitely made more sense since she heard that. Too bad she couldn't have a better look into his apparently roguish past. "Well, from what I hear, Wilhelm was unpleasant."

Loghain and Shale confirmed in unison. "He was."

"Well that settles that," Shiva chuckled.

Everyone was relieved when light gleamed from an opening. Snow cascaded within the tunnel, explaining the crisp chill they felt when they were nearing it. They emerged near the top of the mountain.

Shiva shielded her eyes from all the white surrounding them. It was blinding after days in a dark cave. She almost wanted to crawl back in there. "Maker's breath, Levi. You actually managed to get us out!"

The blonde merchant shrugged. "Just like I said I would." He was clearly happy to be out as well, he grinned widely at the sky as snowflakes fell on his face. One by one, the rest of Shiva's companions ducked out of the small opening from the tunnels. Thankfully Shale was able to squeeze through.

The fortress was in sight where they stood and it didn't take long to reach the stone arch that led to the courtyard. The only opening other than the arch was to the side where there was a steep dip. On the stone path lining it, two statues stood with their etched armor and spears. Their unblinking eyes held a constant vigil.

Shiva walked beside Levi. The others trailed behind. "Tell me more about the keep, Levi. What do you know of its construction?"

"It was built by the Grey Warden Gaspar Asturian, after the second Blight."

"The defeat of Zazikel in 1:95 Divine."

"Uhh, right. That's what got people to donate to the build, they remembered the Blight well. It took 10 years, was dedicated to the Maker in 2:34 Glory. About 60 years later, when Asturian was going mad, Maker knows why, he drew plans to expand the fortress and possibly add hidden alcoves and passages. No one knows if he actually saw it through."

An unusual shift caused them to pause. The cold wind passed them, but suddenly stilled completely. With that stillness, the cold eased as their surroundings wavered. Ghostly figures appeared, running around the courtyard. They were fully armored and seemed to be performing various tasks. One tall figure stood in the center. His hair was cropped short and he seemed to be shouting orders at the men around him.

"Fall back! We must wait here until the Wardens' supplies are low. When they are too weak to raise their swords, we attack. For King Arland!" The ghostly commander disappeared, fading back into the wind with his words.

Levi swayed beside Shiva. "Wuh-what was that? I felt a bit woozy there." Shiva, too, was lightheaded. She slowly shook her head.

"I'm unsure. Did that actually happen in another lifetime?" She turned to the witch behind her. "Morrigan, thoughts?"

The wilds woman seemed to taste the air. Her eerie cat-yellow eyes searched for something the mundanes around her could not sense. "The veil is thin here. There are probably more spirits and demons within."

The cowardly merchant whimpered, "S-spirits?"

A stir in the snow before them caught their attention. The crunching noise was not from their own movement – several skeletons with bits of frozen flesh emerged from the snow. They were helmeted, belted, and armed with either crossbows or swords and shields. Their jaws parted to allow a snarl to warn the party of their oncoming attacks.

Morrigan drew her staff, griping behind Loghain. "How many times now have we been greeted by the risen dead?" Her battle-lusting gaze did not match her annoyed tone. The witch eagerly began to wave her staff in the air, whipping the freezing air around them into a blizzard that calmed feet away from where they stood. The half dozen corpses were frozen in place. The warriors rushed forward to smash them before they thawed.

The courtyard was soon littered with bone shards. Fat black birds hopped along and pecked at them, tasting to see if the flesh that remained was good enough to please their palate. Shale watched them hop around with a disgusted look as it plotted on how it could run over and crush the feathered fiends before they flew away and shat corpse meat upon its stony head.

Shiva looked around, scanning everyone that stood in the courtyard. Zevran was standing beside Levi's cart, glancing over to search for something small he could take without anyone noticing. Wynne noticed and smacked his hand with her staff when he reached for a necklace that was sticking out of a small chest. Leliana stood near them, obviously inspired by the place behind the infamous Dryden legend. She would be rather annoying to bring inside with her fanciful tales. Shiva decided she would lead Loghain, Sten, and Morrigan inside.

Within was another vision – Commander Sophia delivered an inspiring speech that made Shiva feel inadequate as a leader. She wondered if she could deliver such words to those that followed her when their hearts were heavy. She also wondered how good Loghain was at it, but she guessed he was more of a ball-buster where that was concerned – painfully practical and blunt.

Soon the vision swam from their sight as the one before did. "Impressive," Shiva remarked.

Levi was bursting from family pride. "She was quite a woman, my great-great-grandmother." Their feelings were trumped when a boiling puddle appeared in the next room. Demons splashed out from it and sped toward them. Levi barely had enough time to duck behind Sten and was nearly cleaved when the qunari swung his mighty greatsword at the approaching enemy. The demons were spirits of rage, indicated by their red hot, muscled forms. Morrigan cast ice spells since she noticed they were particularly susceptible to the element. Loghain and Shiva sliced at a wraith that floated among the throng, screaming with each attack given and received.

They met similar groups all around the rest of that floor. The library was burnt, most books ruined completely by defeated rage demons. They climbed the stairs to the second floor and were greeted by risen Warden corpses. After they fell, they saw another piece of the puzzle. The ghost of Sophia Dryden was before them, slashing at the king's soldiers but unable to turn the tide back to their favor.

"Make them pay for every inch, men!" Her words did little that time; behind her, Wardens were cut down. A petite female mage was slammed back against the wall by a knight that had been able to rush through her spells – her skull cracked open when it collided with the stone and she slid to the ground, leaving blood and hair above her. Across the room, a warden fell to his knees and had his head lopped off. Another warden between him and the deceased mage slipped in blood, his defense was thrown as he tried to regain balance so he was unable to keep the soldier from piercing his heart. Sophia was left fighting all who vanquished one of her own. With the mage avenged, she turned and shouted to one of the remaining Wardens. "Avernus, we need you!"

A wiry man in blue robes raised his hands, chanting in Tevinter. A demon rose from the black fog on the ground, its gleaming eye fixed on the king's men. The demon glided forward, then turned and with a sweep of its deformed arm, struck one of the wardens. Avernus chanted more, commanding it to obey. His words shifted to the common tongue as he got frantic. "I command you, attack the king's men! What are you doing?" The demon turned to the one who thought himself its master, slowly floating so they were face to face.

"Foolish magus," its voice was an ominous croak. "So much blood, and so much more to be spilled! The veil is torn, and all your souls belong to me now!" Avernus dodged the strike from the demons clawed hand, scampering backwards and up the next floor. Their vision ended. Shiva, Levi, and the others stood breathless, adrenaline rushing inexplicably.

"My grandmother, allowing the mage to summon demons." Levi shook his head in disbelief, staring at the purple cloud that covered the back portion of the room. Shiva was the first to head up the stairs to see if they could find more visions concerning Avernus' fate. Each vision left them with more questions than answers. At that point, it was unlikely that Levi even wanted to know anymore about what his great-great-grandmother had gotten herself into, but they were already there and it would be foolish to turn back.

Heavy panting came from an open room upstairs, just to the left. It held a slow rhythm – likely something that should no longer be breathing at all. With a hand on the hilt of her longsword, Shiva slowly neared the room. Behind her, her companions noted her wary movements and remained silent. Levi was the first of them to hear what Shiva was investigating and he moved behind Loghain. The general took a long stride trying to reclaim some personal space from the merchant that was breathing down his neck. He didn't realize the ninny was as tall as he.

Shiva could see the entire room from where she stood. The room was mostly empty, save a chest along the far wall and a large desk, clear except for a journal. The figure standing behind it wore Warden-Commander armor. Its back was turned, and it had the same short chopped hair as Sophia Dryden, braids and all. The figure turned – the face, too, was Sophia's but it was covered in sores. Her eyes had a thick, cloudy film that Shiva could see from where she stood in the doorway. One of the sores on her cheek split open and oozed when chapped lips widened to reveal a rotten-toothed grin. "Step no further, Warden. This one will speak with you." The voice was unnatural – clearly whatever was in Sophia's body was unsuitable for a woman's voice, it was oddly deep and booming, with a guttural undertone. Two voices in one, like the abomination Connor from Redcliff.

Sten, Morrigan, and Loghain entered the room. When Levi entered, he gasped, walking to stand beside Shiva. "Grandmother?"

"This one is the Dryden, Commander, Sophia. All these things. This one would propose a deal." There was no temptation from this demon. It wore all its repulsiveness on its sleeve, and they had just seen the guaranteed outcome when dealing with demons with the latest vision.

"Let's hear it." Shiva was skeptical, but perhaps there were answers she could get from it. Supposedly all of Sophia's memories were still in there for the demon to read like a scroll.

"My brethren surge forth from the tear in the veil. This one is bound so long as it is open and my brethren emerge only to be slain by the tower. Kill the tower, end all life in it, and this one will mend the tear in the veil. You will also let this one go." Filmy eyes went to a landscape painting. "This one has seen many lands through the Dryden's memories. This one wishes to roam."

Shiva scoffed at the demon's proposal. Angry, clouded eyes turned to her. "The odds are heavily weighted in your favor. You had better sweeten the deal if you wish for me to comply." Sten growled behind her.

"The Qun is quite clear in matters of demons. Destroy them quickly and efficiently. Enough talk." Shiva knew he spoke wisdom, but waited for what the demon had to say anyway.

"Your kind likes gold, yes? This one knows where some is hidden. It would never be found otherwise."

It was Loghain's turn to scoff. "Tell me you don't actually believe this creature?" The demon jumped to her defense.

"Humans are capable of far more trickery than this one."

"What do you expect? We learned from the best." Shiva gave the demon a pointed look. "Ready your gold and your veil-mending powers, demon. We are off to 'kill the tower' as you say." She turned to exit the room with possessed Sophia cheering her on.

"Good, good! Use the magus' skull as a bowl when you are done. Rip it out of his frail body." The forced laugh made Shiva's head hurt. She quickly opened the door to the bridge to the other tower. Her followers were close behind. Loghain was still displeased.

"What part of this 'deal' has you convinced you're making a wise move?"

"The part where we clear the tower of the demon summoning mage, get the demon to fix the rip in the veil and give us gold before we kill it as well. There's a whole world for it to explore, and it is bound just as the demon said. It will do this right." They had crossed the bridge, stepping over the traps Shiva pointed out. Before opening the door, she paused, hand on the knob, to see if her general was satisfied. Two sets of defiant eyes met. She knew his pride would have him continue staring until she looked away, and she didn't have time for the gaze. He would be wrong if he took it as her backing down – which he likely did assume.

The small room they entered was of no interest. The room beyond was riddled with corpses. A lone mage stood hunched over an extravagant alchemy lab. Several vials stretched along the width of three tables. Some over small fires, others suspended upside down or sideways. They were linked by tubes and string, each vial containing noxious liquids of varying colors.

"No need to announce yourselves, I hear you." The mage stood and faced them. "And feel you." Shiva could feel him as well for he was a warden. "Why are you here?"

"To kill you," Shiva answered simply.

"Under the request of a demon, hm? Brilliant plan, young Commander. You have not thought this through, have you?" The question was more of a statement, but she didn't care. She didn't mind that he was a blood mage, but she intended to kill everything in the fortress. Humans included.

"You've lived long past your time, Avernus. If you must speak, let it be a chant for your spells. There is nothing more to be said between us." She drew her sword and dagger to get the point across. The old mage's face twisted as he rounded to stand at the very back of the room.

"My body may be frail, but my spells are not!" His old hands swirled in the air, raising the dead around him and placing glyphs on the floor. They covered the ground at the foot of the staircase, so Shiva needed to have a good running leap to miss them. Her path was blocked by corpses, and Morrigan was busy with ones approaching them from the sides. Loghain and Sten were already hacking at the four that approached them. Loghain saw that Shiva was fixated upon the mage, so he bashed the corpse that approached her with his shield. She was soon engaged with two. She parried the strike from one that wielded a mace, then ducked as the other swung its sword. Loghain crossed his sword with it and forced it into the throat of the mace-wielding corpse that stood beside it. Shiva eviscerated the swordsman, rotten guts spilled on Loghain's boots and on the greaves she wore since she still kneeled. Loghain's attention returned to the other corpses near Sten. Morrigan was dueling Avernus from afar, but none of her spells hit. The warding spell flicked on and off before Avernus, blocking her attacks and allowing his to pass through to her. Her robes were glowing orange to defy the effects of the ice spells Avernus hit her with.

The glyphs still shone brightly on the floor, so Shiva sprinted straight toward them. Nearly an inch too close to it, she pushed off her foot to step gracefully on the rail, where the glyphs effect would not be suffered. She ran along the rail, balanced perfectly. At the end of the rail, she jumped once more, sword arm bent to allow her to pierce through Avernus' chest. His warding spell was of no use against her sword. He was stabbed and her charge was halted when the blade ran through the mage's back and got embedded in a crack in the wall behind him. He was lying on the table, his partial fall broke several vials – its glass cut through his back and whatever his experimental potions were scorched him like acid. From the silence, Shiva assumed the fighting behind them was done. When she turned, the glyphs flickered from sight. She withdrew her sword and wiped it on the soiled robes Avernus wore, before heading back to Sophia.

The demon was in ecstasies. She marched to the room where the veil tore and stared lovingly at the door to its home. "My brethren will not make it easy. Are you ready?"

"Yes, begin," Shiva affirmed. Sophia raised her hands and waved them as a mage who readied their spells would. From the corner of the room, three demons rose. They were outraged and headed straight for Sophia before Shiva, Loghain, Morrigan, and Sten intercepted. There were four stages to the mending of the veil – Sophia moved to various angles as the demon worked, each time she moved, more demons arose. At last, Sophia groaned and let her arms fall. The air cleared and all demons were slain. Ash and ichor covered the ground – some blood was spilt as well. When claws snagged flesh, Sten would have had his throat cut had he not bumped the arm of the demon. The claws met his jaw instead and three long cuts went from ear to chin, the skin separated enough to reveal his jawbone. Morrigan had faced the desire demon that came in the final wave. The witch got caught in the ice spell and her lips were chapped until the bottom one split.

"The veil is repaired," Sophia reported. "Now this one will go."

Shiva proceeded to wipe ichor off her blades. "About that gold…"

"By the fireplace in the Commander's quarters, there is a loose stone. It is the third row from the top of the alcove, and second from the right. The stone is carved hollow and your gold is inside."

Shiva gestured for Levi to get the gold. He ran up the steps, taking them two at a time. She hoped he would take longer coming back. The little man looked as if he had seen enough violence for one day. Just a bit more.

"Our arrangement is complete, demon. I won't let you walk out of here alive." There really hadn't been much point in cleaning her blades before that.

"What? This one will grind your bones in my teeth!" Sophia drew her greatsword, raising it high over her head. It did not come down until she fell – Morrigan cast a paralyze spell and the warriors and rogue cut her down before she regained the ability to move. Levi peeked out from the corner and meekly stepped down the stairs. He wasn't too disturbed about seeing his grandmother's body lying dead, he knew the real Sophia was long gone. He did look downhearted, he did not find the answers he sought. The truth was much darker than he could have imagined.

"I can't believe the Wardens summoned demons, and my great-great-grandmother allowed it. There was no proof to redeem my family's name. I'm at a bit of a loss."

"There was nothing to be found here. Sophia's actions would not have been accepted. But you have the truth, the best thing you can do is move forward." She was too tired to be properly encouraging. The cold was making her grumpy.

"I guess I'll just continue my trade. The Peak would make a good base of operations. My brother and I would be safest setting up shop here as well, bandits are all over but wouldn't dare come up here. Not to mention you Wardens would get a sizable discount."

"Sounds good to me. The Peak's definitely big enough for the two of us," she managed a weak smile with that said.

They sent word for Levi's brother and Riordan, informing them that the Peak was secured and would be their stronghold until the Archdemon showed itself.


	23. Paragon of Ass Tattoos

Borrowed Time, Ch 23 – Paragon of Ass Tattoos

AN: I love Orzammar! :D Hopefully I can do it some justice.

* * *

The trip from Soldier's Peak to the base of the Frostback Mountains took them over a week. Before they had left, they received word from Riordan and Mikhael Dryden that they would arrive at the Peak in a fortnight, when all their business in Denerim was concluded.

Shiva felt a bit of déjà vu – once again they climbed an ice-clad mountain, headed for the stone structure above them, but the fortress at Soldier's Peak paled in comparison to Orzammar. When it came to a fortress at the top of a mountain compared to a whole city of stone within and below the mountains, the latter won hands down.

There were more surface dwarves outside the gates than she had seen before, and a few humans among them. Their wares weren't impressive. There was a time she'd sell scraps of this and that she smuggled to supply their stock when her ship docked just to the north, near the crook of the Waking Sea. She only recognized one dwarf and a man she never had dealings with, for he had his own shady operation going – he would steal from the dead, but that bothered Shiva little. What she didn't care for was how the smell of the clothing from ripe corpses was so thinly disguised. Needless to say, he just barely made ends meet up there. The large sundial in the center of the clearing indicated it was halfway to midnight.

At the large doors, a dwarf glared as though he stood two feet above them instead of below. "Why do you approach?"

Shiva stood at the head of her group. "I am surprised you do not recognize me. As for my purpose, I am a Grey Warden and I have urgent need to speak to your king."

The doorman slapped his forehead for not recognizing her sooner. "Ah! Captain. It has been some time. Orzammar has no king. King Aeducan returned to the stone just weeks ago, and there is a stalemate between his right hand man and last remaining son. But you may speak to the Steward of the Assembly. Go to the Diamond Quarter. Please, do not judge us from what you see within. These are tumultuous times for the dwarves of Orzammar."

Shiva nodded knowingly. "They are tumultuous times for everyone, my friend." She entered the Hall of Heroes for possibly the twentieth time, each time renewed her awe. Men and women dwarves alike were revered, judged by their accomplishments. Dwarves were a logical, resilient race. Shiva couldn't help but admire them. They made fantastic drinking buddies as well. She wondered what had become of hers, for she didn't see him when she came with Duncan.

There was an argument in the Commons. The two candidates for the throne stood with several guards. One from each side seized each other in a vicious battle, ending when one killed the other with an axe to the midsection. The older dwarf ran to the Diamond Quarter with the rest of his guards.

The remaining nobleman, who Shiva recognized as Bhelen, noticed the visitors and approached them, smoothly stepping over the body that tainted the stone with blood. "Greetings travelers. Forgive the display, you have witnessed the worst of Orzammar before you fully set foot into our city."

Shiva shrugged. "It's nothing new. Prince Bhelen," she bowed. "I am a Grey Warden, here to ask for aid against the Blight. I understand there is nothing you can do until you are king."

"That is true, Grey Warden, though I would gladly send our army to fight against the darkspawn on the surface, it is as you say. I do not currently have the authority."

"Is there something I could do in the meantime? Some assurance that we will have an accord?"

Bhelen pulled on his long, thick –and quite frankly, disgustingly matted- beard. "Warden, before I can speak any further of allegiance, I must ask you to partake in a dwarven tradition so I know you understand our ways."

"Since my word will not do, what is it you ask of me?"

"We are holding a Glory Proving in two days. Enter the Proving supporting me. I will know if you are both honest in your support and if you are capable to carry out the tasks I require, wherever that may lead you." What a waste of two days, but this was a necessary evil.

"Very well."

"Excellent. After the Proving – assuming you win – my man Vartag Gavorn will be at Tapsters to escort you to the Royal Palace. Wardens," he bowed in dismissal and turned, with the rest of his men, to return to the Diamond Quarter.

"What are we to do for two days?" Morrigan's nose was wrinkled at the smell of the area.

"We should try some dwarven ale," Zevran suggested. "I hear it has a real kick."

The pirate shook her head. "Dwarven ale? No. Thank. You! The one and only time I tried that swill I woke up on a roof in Dust Town with an ass tattoo." Shiva rubbed her rear through the armor at the memory. It had felt like the worst spanking she had ever received. She enjoyed it, though. Leliana giggled, not knowing that there was a story behind her buttock design. Loghain tried his hardest not to react to that, but couldn't keep his brows from furrowing.

"A tattoo? What of? I would very much like to see it!" Zevran was practically tearing her greaves off. Shiva swatted him away.

"But I would like to see if those two singing guys were there. They had talent."

* * *

The singers were not present. But her drinking buddy was. She saw him seconds after she entered Tapster's Tavern, though he was on the far side from where she stood. She weaved through the drunk dwarves, making her way to the bright red beard that swayed near the back corner.

"Oghren!"

"Mrr?" The dwarf snorted himself out of his drunken stupor. He instantly lit up when he saw her. "Well slap my hairy ass and call me a naughty nug. If it ain't Captain Shiva. How ya been, honey tits?" He held his arms wide for a bear hug, which she entered with the usual dread because of his smell and strength.

Shiva was laughing already. Oghren just had that effect. "I'm not a captain anymore, remember?"

"Oh yeah, that's right. Last time I saw you, you were spittin' more lava than this damn mountain over that pretty boy first mate. Heh. What I really remember is that you got drunk off your sweet cheeks and staggered off to Dust Town, saying somethin' bout getting a brand." His odor was traumatizing, as usual. The ale and vomit breath was the least of the olfactory offenses.

"Yeah, thanks for the intervention, by the way! I woke up with a sting like you wouldn't believe!" Her hip cocked angry pose only made him roar with laughter.

"What didja end up getting? Can I see it?" His last request was asked in a voice that only a drunk dwarf would try to pass as sexy. She shook her head.

"Not you too."

The hour flew by with Oghren's rants about his last few years in Orzammar since his wife's disappearance and the rules being heaped onto the warrior caste. The rest of the time was spent with Zevran and the dwarf trying to see who knew the funniest jokes. It came too close to call.

* * *

Everyone was free to roam the city as they desired. The women scattered around the Commons, sovereigns burning a hole in their purses. Shiva approached the swearing nug wrangler near the entrance to the Diamond Quarter. "Uh, excuse me but, umm, do you have a moment?" A bubbly voice chimed from beside the merchant across the street. A young dwarf with bright red hair and gleaming blue eyes smiled at her.

"I have plenty moments. What can I do for you?" Shiva couldn't help but be uncharacteristically nice, the little dwarf was so cute.

"You look like you're not from around here," her short pigtails sat on her shoulders when she looked up at Shiva.

"You could say that."

"Oh, wonderful! I don't suppose you've ever heard of something called the circle?" She waited for an answer with breathless glee.

"As in the Circle of Magi? As a matter of fact, I am traveling with a Senior Mage of the Circle. She's somewhere in the district." Shiva looked around for Wynne, who was nowhere in sight. Her only companion nearby was Zevran, who was cozying up to a dwarf female at the next stall. The gasp made her look back at the young dwarf in alarm. She had heard death rattles less strained than that.

"Oh mighty Ancestors, do you think I could meet her? I would be so so so honored! Do you think she'd be able to help me get accepted for study at the Circle? I know as a dwarf I can never do magic, but just to learn, oh!" Shiva couldn't help but laugh at her excitement.

"Of course, come along and we'll look for her together." The young dwarf introduced herself as Dagna as she hopped off the small stepped platform of the stall.

"I must warn you, Dagna. The Circle is in disarray. There was an incident a few months ago – blood mages nearly destroyed the Circle, the templars nearly called for the Right of Annulment." Another gasp.

"Oh Ancestors, that is terrible, but it's still there, right? The First Enchanter wasn't hurt, right?"

"The old toad is fine. There's Wynne." The senior mage was standing near the gate to Dust Town, she and Leliana were talking to a dwarf wearing… chantry robes? Loghain stood near them keeping a close eye on the two he trusted the least. Leliana was the first to see Shiva approach.

"Oh, my love, this noble dwarf is trying to open a chantry here in Orzammar. We should help him any way we can." Leliana was starting to wear on Shiva's nerves, especially when she started going on about Maker this, Andraste that.

"Do what you wish about it, but don't spend any coin reserved for our travels. We have bigger issues," she was being curt.

"Not a fan of religion, I take it?" Loghain asked.

"That's a complicated answer, which I'll give you in a moment. Wynne, allow me to introduce Dagna. She expressed she's interested in studying at the Circle." The dwarf instantly started gushing about the mage. To her, Wynne was practically an angel. While Leliana sulked about Shiva's dismissal of the chantry scheme, she went over to Loghain to answer his question.

"It is religious people that I am not a fan of. I have faith, but prefer not to speak of it, for my beliefs are unconventional. It's not something I wish to discuss in our present company." She jerked her head toward Leliana and the chantry dwarf.

"I can't say I'm particularly fond of the company either. Perhaps we should continue this discussion elsewhere?" She was glad they had already fallen into a comfortable alliance. His company was preferable to nearly all other companions. He wasn't as needy or spiteful as the rest.

They headed toward the Proving grounds, hoping they would be able to learn more about the rules and tactics. Shiva hadn't been too attentive last time she saw them.

"How exactly are your beliefs 'unconventional'?" They were about to traverse the bridge, Shiva had always been uneasy about crossing since she saw a fight where one dwarf was knocked into the lava.

"You first. You don't strike me as the religious type either, you know." It was believable if he said he was. She certainly didn't expect him to be as vehemently faithless as Morrigan.

"I believe in the Maker as much as the next person. Most generals I know that are religious simply have turned to faith instead of drink to cope with what we must inevitably do in war. This has not made me lean upon it heavily, however."

"And you believe He has left us?" He confirmed. "I do not." Loghain gave her an arched brow, wondering what support she had for her theory. She sagely nodded before continuing. "Look at all the evil around us. Consider how much worse it could be. I think if He was gone, we would be too. Light is much easier to purge than darkness. Without His hand guiding and protecting us, we don't stand a chance. But I will give you this – His presence is hard to detect. This too could be intentional. This life is a test, that is undeniable. What if we are simply interpreting His silence the wrong way? What if He simply chooses not to speak to us until judgment day? With all our prayers for this and that going seemingly unnoticed by Him, it could be a simple matter of us not being able to take 'no' for an answer." She finally took a breath from her sermon. It felt good to admit it to someone – she had never done so since coming to Thedas. She noticed Loghain didn't look skeptical; his face was straight and calm as he pondered. She suddenly felt exposed. "What say you," she prompted.

He turned to her, remaining silent for a moment as he continued to contemplate. "My opinion shouldn't matter."

"What if it does? Will you leave me wondering?" Her voice softened more than she meant it to. She knew he wouldn't react too well to the flirting card. Shiva didn't realize they had stopped within the main hall of the Proving grounds for the sake of their discussion.

"What you say makes sense and if that works for you, by all means, keep believing it. That would certainly leave people with much more hope. Honestly, there is no proof one way or the other."

"What of Andraste?" She was most interested in what he had to say on that matter. It was where her beliefs drastically diverged from the common ideology.

"She's worthy of respect, but not a goddess. I do not pray to her myself."

_Time for the kill. _

"I think she's full of shit." Loghain barked a short laugh. Loki caught up to them and barked back.

"Come now, young lady. Tell me what you really think." He was still chuckling lightly.

"Seriously, like you said, she's not a goddess – she was human! A completely normal woman. And the bride of the Maker? Ew! The Maker made us, He's our father. That's incest! If it is true, that's the most disturbing incidence of favoritism I've ever heard of." To her, she was being remarkably profound. Her words ended on a distinct note of finality.

"I suppose I see how you could think that. Ever considered you're taking it a bit too literally?" She shook her head.

"How many other heroes have ridiculous tales about them? Think of all the bullshit made up about Calenhad. Hair made of dyed spidersilk, fists that could break through golems, endowed as generously as a bronto. Pfft. It's all the same. It's more likely Andraste bedded a bard and had her completely infatuated before her demise, thus inspiring the mourning lover to compose a ballad that inspired a whole damn denomination in her name."

"Is that what you're going for?" She was a bit put out by his accusation.

"Maker, no. Leliana's just ditzy enough to find me interesting and not so easy to be considered whorish and repulsive. Her being a bard is something I put up with." She wasn't entirely comfortable discussing her relationship with him, either. It was a strike against his trust for her, if he even had any yet.

"Ditzy enough, hm? Why would she not find you interesting? You are our leader, after all. No doubt you've convinced her you're capable of ending the Blight single handedly." The way he said it was far from flattering, he was trying to draw out an admission of some sinister plot or flaw. Loghain's arms were crossed over his chest, quite a feat in his massive chevalier plate.

"We're not talking about me," she shook her head. The last thing she wanted to speak of was her insecurity. "Come, I have given you your answer and then some. Let's find something more productive to learn." Loghain acquiesced. Each warden interviewed several members of the warrior's caste – some of which were veterans. They had plenty to mull over before the Proving.

* * *

The days had passed slowly, but finally they stood ready to step into the arena. Shiva was confident in her skill of incapacitating enemies, but the same could not be said of Sten and Shale. She didn't wish to have mages or a dog on her side. That left her with a clear choice for a second and party for the final battle. She would do the first three battles alone, then the other two with the help of Loghain, then with Loghain, Zevran, and Leliana.

Shiva stepped out into the arena, not paying attention to the Proving Master, only the hum of roars from the audience. The party members who were not competing were in the stands. Loki had his front paws on the banister, shaking from rump to shoulders from his wagging tail.

The fights were passionless for her. She couldn't get over this spontaneous depression that seized her so violently. Months ago, she wished she was on the floor under Duncan's gaze, soaking up all the glory. Instead she wished she was in the stands watching Duncan as he observed, letting others have the burden of staged combat. She wondered how Leske would have handled himself in the arena. He was impressive with his axe and dagger, confining himself to the shadow of his more outgoing companion. Much how Alistair confined himself to her shadow, though he possessed all the qualities and strength he needed to lead. All her fellow Wardens from Orzammar had been defeated in some way or another. Leske and Duncan were blameless, however. Alistair was another story that she cursed herself for continuing to dwell upon.

She imagined her opponents to be of greater size so she could pretend she was sparring with Alistair. Her hands grew too heavy and she ended up doing more damage than advised. She couldn't help that her vision swam as her rage rose once more and that her strikes had twice as much force as she intended.

It was a relief when Loghain joined her. She was only beginning to think of him as a warden, though it was something she accepted instantly it just didn't feel the same. The others had some feeling about being a Warden – pride, exhilaration, even uncertainty, but Loghain was cold on the matter. Even the warmth from their shared taint would not overcome that.

It was easier to simply fight alongside him, forgetting the bond they were supposed to be sharing. He would assault directly, and she would slink around the flank while the dwarf they focused on was occupied. They made a good team in that aspect.

When the other two rogues joined for the final round, it was chaos. Leliana was shooting at the crossbowmen, splitting her attention between the two of them while Zevran ran for one. Shiva allowed Loghain to take the leader himself, while she went for his second.

Much too simply, the battle was won. They had to wonder where the famous warrior caste berserkers were hiding. Oghren wasn't kidding about how the rules dampened their prowess.

* * *

The Royal Palace looked the same as it had under King Endrin, but the late King Aeducan had an air of hospitality that impressed Shiva. She rarely felt so at ease among nobles as she had then. With Bhelen, there was a heavy suspicion of treachery. Zevran picked up on it as well, and admired the bearded deepstalker for it.

"You do not approve of him, bella? Surely you see he is the stronger candidate for it."

"I loathe corrupt politicians," she groused.

Loghain agreed, but was not blinded by ideals. "They will never go away."

Wynne pursed her wrinkled lips. "You mean, '_we_ will never go away.' Do not fail to include yourself, Loghain Mac Tir." The general ignored her completely.

Shiva answered Loghain, "I know. That's why I have Alistair and Anora rule jointly. Her competence and rationality counter his ignorance and his sense of justice counters her-"

"Her _what_?"

"Her traits she inherited directly from you," she snapped. His lip curled back but he said no more. They were led into Bhelen's study before he could remark.

"Warden! A fine display at the Proving. The Ancestors were clear in their favor. There is a task that would sway the deshyrs of the court to my favor, but I cannot attend to it at this moment. Perhaps if you are willing to aid me, it would certainly allow this stalemate to break sooner."

Shiva's arms were crossed. Naturally they would be errand boys. "What do you have in mind, Prince Bhelen?"

"There is a carta with a base of operations in Dust Town led by a woman named Jarvia. She needs to be eliminated." Shiva remembered Leske and his friend had slain Beraht when they escaped from their hideout's dungeon. Leske had relayed some information on a secret entrance in that shop they had emerged from. That would certainly work to their advantage.

"Say no more," for there was not much more to be said. Shiva was willing to do his dirty work since this did benefit all of Orzammar.

* * *

The shop that was once for Beraht's money laundering belonged to Dagna's father. He was informed – forcefully – that the place had ties to the carta. His whimpers implied he was unaware. They searched for the trap door to a tunnel that led right to Jarvia.

She was in there with a large group of thugs – seven or eight at least. Shiva hid in the tunnel with Loghain, Sten, Shale, Zevran, Loki, and Morrigan. Leliana and Wynne remained behind with Dagna – who they would escort to the Circle after Orzammar. They were currently breaking the news to her father.

Shiva nodded to Zevran, who pulled the acid flask from his pack. He stood at the open door to their hideout and tossed it above where Jarvia and her closest men stood. The acid rained down on them – into their mouths and eyes as they gaped at the invading object. Their cries signaled the charge. Loki went straight to the back, guarding the other door so they could not call for reinforcements. Morrigan froze the two that were near Loki so the hound could smash through them before they tried anything. Shiva and Zevran went for Jarvia while the warriors and golem attacked the men around her.

Jarvia gave her red, watering eyes a final wipe before she drew her daggers. She bared large, brown teeth at the two rogues that attacked her, parrying each attempted slash. She tried to slit Zevran's throat, but the elf stepped back – his move was nearly too slow and it was his height that saved him, the dwarf's dagger split the leather on his chest instead. Shiva kneed Jarvia in the mouth to knock her back while she was distracted with Zevran. Jarvia staggered, blood and dribble running down her chin, then righted herself and threw a small grey vial on the ground under Shiva's feet.

Smoke poured up from the small destroyed vial, coating Shiva's lungs when she gasped it in. The smoke stung her eyes, it was more annoying than the slices she felt being inflicted all over her. Jarvia's daggers were so sharp it was more damage than pain. The smoke was thickest below her – Jarvia was fully hidden so all Shiva could do was try to back out of her reach for Jarvia was equally blinded. The dwarf's dagger slashed high, cutting along Shiva's jaw – she winced from the pain of feeling the metal drag across her jawbone. Had she not been backing up, the blade would have cut the side of her throat open vertically. She kept backing until her heel hit one of the steps, making her lose her balance. A thin rope snapped, striking her in the temple while her head hit stone. The barrels on either side exploded, burning her face and hair. The explosion was strongest near the top of the barrel since the rope was meant to be tripped by a misstep, so Shiva was saved from most of the damage. Splinters of wood still hit the side of her face as they bounced off the wall. Maker, she hadn't had a battle go that badly since…

She couldn't even remember a time before her hand was pulled with enough force to get her standing. Her armor collided with armor just as massive, far shinier, and much more Orlesian. "Don't fall asleep, we've still got company." Loghain stepped away from her as Sten and Zevran worked to cut Jarvia down. The dwarf's blades did nothing against Shale's surprise punch to her spine. Armor creaked and several vertebrae shattered – Jarvia was sent flying into the stone divider in the middle of the room. Had the punch not killed her, the way her skull cracked open certainly would have. Her brain lay spilled on the floor.

In her fury, Shiva found the gore mesmerizing. She wiped at the blood spilling down her neck. "More will come. There's an entire organization down here." There was not when they were finished. They slaughtered their way through to the Dust Town entrance, killing common thugs, specialized assassins, and hired Qunari mercenary. Sten found them particularly distasteful – his battle cries were extracts of verse from their sacred tome, mocking those who had given up everything their race stood for.

When the entire hideout was cleared, they returned to the shop. Wynne healed their wounds, sipping a lyrium potion for the duration of the examinations. Dagna watched in awe while Morrigan rolled her eyes at the young girl's admiration for anything and everything related to the Circle.

Before they could rest, Bhelen had to be informed of the complete annihilation of the carta. If luck was with them, he would be made king for ordering the deed. That seemed highly unlikely considering how stubborn the deshyrs tended to be. They could still hope.


	24. Lesser of Two Evils

Borrowed Time, Ch 24 – The Lesser of Two Evils

AN: Why is Loghian so easy to talk to?! Draggin on my chapters… Oh, and at the end of this is when I start referring to Shale as "her."

* * *

Bhelen had a final – and Shiva thought of it with the use of quotes, "final" – task for them. It was a completely outrageous request. Of all people, a dwarf should know how unlikely it was to find someone in the Deep Roads after two sodding years. They were going, of course. Shiva shouldn't pass up the chance to send her small circle of companions into the colon of Thedas. When she did, she was sure as shit going to bring Oghren. If they were going to the Deep Roads to find Branka, Orzammar's only living – presumably living – Paragon, Branka's husband was coming with them.

They had time before their trip. Wynne's magic could only heal so much, for she was only one mage, ancient as the Tevinter Imperium itself at that. Three days they would get for rest, it was enough for them to recover from the soreness they were left with.

Shiva was in Dust Town with Leliana and Morrigan – girls night out, if it was indeed night – searching for an old associate. She spotted the old smuggler wedging himself in a corner so he could safely guard the merchandise he held in his back pocket.

"Alright ladies, you know what to do." Shiva remembered her last conversation with Rogek. He tried to kill her when she told him their business was concluded – she left out that it was because she no longer had a ship to get her and their lyrium across the Waking Sea. She had killed most of his guards before other dusters joined in on the violence, not caring who they hurt, so long as there was enough blood to make the dirt muddy. Making her escape was easy after the riot started.

She approached Rogek, whose face contorted when he spotted her nearing. "A little birdie told me you still have dealings with the Circle tower. Just so you know, that happens to be my next stop." Straight to the point with a little white lie – he didn't need to know she was actually going to the Deep Roads next.

"Sod off, cloudhead. Our business is done, you made that perfectly clear when you killed my most trusted men. Do you know how much I had to spend hiring goons to replace them?"

"I do not, nor do I care." Shiva tutted and sighed, shaking her head as if she were sad. Truth be told, he was playing right into her hands. "Speaking of our most trusted allies, allow me to introduce Morrigan. She does this thing with her tongue – why don't you show him, leech?" Morrigan sultrily approached Rogek and bent close to his ear. He looked as if he had been struck by lightning – the oaf most likely had never had such a beautiful woman so near him. She chanted a spell in his ear and the dwarf stilled. The ground he was on shined with a pure white aura, indicative of the paralysis spell. "Then there's Leliana. She's all hands," Shiva winked as Leliana bent over his shoulder to ungraciously search his pockets for the nuggets of lyrium. His eyes darted comically while he strained, willing his body to move. The bard handed over four nuggets of lyrium, which Shiva nonchalantly put in her pack. "Well my friend, you've had a taste. If you want to play, you'll have to catch us first," she giggled.

They were still discussing their spoils as they walked to the Diamond Quarter. If Leliana chastised them over it another minute, Shiva was going to cook the obnoxious little nug the bard adopted and would serve it to everyone. "That was not very business-woman like, duster or no."

Morrigan felt every bit as victorious as Shiva, especially since she was given a deposit of a very ornate golden mirror for services rendered. "Save your sermons for the chantry. You are spoiling what is otherwise a most enjoyable moment. Is it not clear we do not share your pathetic conscience?"

"Pathetic," Leliana quoted. "Well, my love, is it pathetic to you too?" Her tone was poisonous.

"No, but it is also not shared. I gave you those blue shoes for the sacrifice, why are you still complaining?" She had to literally bite her tongue to keep from being overly course.

"You had those anyway, I saw when you bought them from that dwarven merchant on the way here! It is just a token anyway, so you could use me for your cruel schemes."

"Cruel schemes?" Shiva crossed behind Morrigan to stand beside Leliana. "The fucker was a smuggler, giving lyrium to fuel an addiction. I am putting nearly all of the money we'll get from it toward the treasury we're trying to start at the Peak. Do you even know how much that will be? It's worth more than fifty sovereigns. Fif-tee! If I knew the word in Orlesian, I would translate so you could wrap your ditzy little mind around it."

It was hard to keep herself from storming off, she didn't care what Leliana had to say and her hurt expression wasn't something Shiva wanted to sit there and stare at while she fumbled for something to say. The bard quickly got indignant.

"It doesn't change that you are cruel, using childish insults like that after all I have done for you. I should throw those shoes into the lava."

Morrigan inserted himself, unable to pass up the chance of using her comment. "Make sure you jump in there with them." Her tone was practically joyful. Leliana 'hmphed' and walked ahead of them. Morrigan made no effort to stifle her laughter. Shiva, on the other hand, was pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Why in Andraste's flaming ass did I allow myself to get into a relationship with her?"

"Do not tell me feelings have arisen. Tis sickening enough already."

"I care no more for her than the rest. Unfortunately I've grown too soft – I would feel guilty if I simply discarded her. It would also make her less obligated to stay." Morrigan was perusing the nearest stall's wares. A hum indicated she was probably still listening. "It seems she lost faith in her vision, does it not?"

"One could only hope," Morrigan muttered to a gold pendant she held to the brightness of the flowing lava beyond.

"Bugger it all. I'm going to the Shaperate. Have fun with your trinkets."

"I shall." Morrigan pretended to place the pendant back on the display, then 'casually' put her hand in her satchel. Sneaky witch-thief.

* * *

For stone-dwelling people, their couches were surprisingly comfy. They had a dependable trade with various merchants that would bring furniture accessories from Orlais – silken or velvet throws, soft cotton cushions. It made the small alcoves in the Shaperate a perfect place to nap. Shiva would after she read through Caridin's Journal – supposedly retrieved by the late Princess Aeducan after she was exiled. It was found near her body at the doors that sealed her fate. In her final days, she decided to return a precious codex for the memories – it made many dwarves reconsider their assumption about her role in her brother Trian's death.

The journal dated to -255 Ancient and contained Caridin's thoughts as he made golems from living dwarves. It was definitely something she would have to discuss with Shale. The golem seemed to have forgotten it was once a creature of flesh.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed a form much larger than the natives enter. Loghain walked past her with a thick tome tucked under his arm. She had to cock her head and lean to the side to see him return the tome to Shaper Assistant Milldrate. The Shaper boomed his thanks and outrage that a brand had dared steal from the house of learning – a first time occurrence.

She resumed reading the journal when Loghain passed by once more, noticing her. "Here. Put these toward our traveling fund. It should be two sovereigns and twenty silvers."

"Oh?" She accepted the coins he held out and stashed them in her larger coin pouch with the lyrium nuggets. "Is there a story behind it?" She glanced at the Shaper Assistant, indicating she was aware of what transpired.

"I retrieved the stolen tome from a dwarf as he tried to sell it. The shady bastard he was with tried to offer coin if I sold it to him instead. Ended up getting the money from his corpse, he attacked me when I refused." Loghain shrugged, then sat on the sofa adjacent to hers.

"Not bad. Did you take a cut?"

"No." His answer was drawn out like a question. It seemed he took it as an accusation until she scooped out the twenty silvers and handed them back to him.

"We'd have none of it if not for you. You deserve that, at least." Her generosity was surprising, and he couldn't argue with her logic – not that he let it show. "She really is just like you, you know. It's not a bad thing as I made it sound before, for which I apologize."

The apology was unexpected. One of the most difficult things to admit is when you were wrong. "I accept it. And I find she is more like her mother."

Shiva tried to picture his late wife. "Hard for me to recognize, I never knew her. Is it difficult without her?"

"Not as much as it used to be." He wasn't a man to expose himself so much. Shiva used his seemingly unusual mood to her advantage.

"What was it that claimed her life?"

"A wasting illness. She was sick for months. Many times she seemed to get better, but each bout left her weaker for the next attack."

"I cannot guess how difficult that must have been." She was solemnly staring at the small table between them.

"I wasn't there for much of it. I had to spend a great deal of time in the field. It would have been better for her if I was by her side more, but… yes, it was.. difficult to see. That is when I met Wynne. She was one of the healers that came to the estate, trying to ease her pain. She hadn't left when I returned after the news of Celia's death. I blamed her, undeservedly – I admit that now. I have yet to apologize. I have no desire to bring up that day, even if I owe her." Just admitting the old mage's presence at the time had him agitated. Since they had started off on the wrong foot, they only got more frigid to one another.

"She probably understands, to some extent." That was all the defense Wynne would receive from her. "Accept my condolences, delayed as they are."

He nodded and hummed acknowledgement. She returned to her book after realizing she was staring at him. He was too strong a man to look so doleful. He sat a while longer and sighed, catching her attention once more.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, it happened a long time ago."

"Has your duty been enough to keep your mind occupied? To overcome the grief, I mean." It was all she had found so far to help when she battled grief. Drink worsened it and she rarely had the company that would have encouraged her. Caspian had been a good listener, but he was always too distant. Probably because the bastard was plotting the whole time.

_Damned Orlesian._

She realized she was starting to sound like Loghain when she thought such things.

"There's no duty in the world consuming enough to numb the pain from the death of a spouse. But for the most part, yes it did. After I spent a few weeks with Anora I returned to my mission. It got easier when I left the estate. I was able to breathe again." He was breathing deeply then, probably remembering the incident too vividly.

* * *

Maker damn it. Why did he have to start talking about Celia? It had been a while since the ache from missing her was so strong. He seldom spoke of it, leaving it to Anora to remember her mother fondly while he quietly agreed with her. He had only himself to blame for the new wave of grief that replaced the usual disquiet about his loneliness. If there was any consolation, it was that he spoke of it to an attentive, beautiful woman. Her sympathy was clear, but not sickly sweet. The way her head cocked as she watched his face for his feelings showed she had never experienced such a loss. It was good she hadn't, that was not something he wished on his worst enemy.

When he looked up, Shiva had stood, stretching. Part of him wished she wasn't wearing armor so he could see the arch of her back, but-

He shut his eyes, trying to distract himself from her as she walked away, with her damned swaying hips. She returned the book to its place on the shelf and passed back, heading to the door. Her hand came to rest on the arm of the sofa, close to his shoulder. "I'm heading to Tapsters, this place is putting me to sleep. Care to join me?"

"No." He realized he had spoken too harshly when she huffed and started to walk away. She nearly turned from him too quick for him to see that she was put out by his brusque refusal. Loghain rounded the sofa to catch up before she reached the door. "Don't misunderstand, I enjoy your company. More than I ever expected to." He paused before his admission went too far. "I should probably avoid drink at the moment, and the patrons of the tavern would simply grate on my nerves."

The clarification softened her, somewhat. "Fair enough." He held the door for her, eyes riveted on the floor until she passed.

_Maker help me. _

* * *

Bhelen invited the Wardens to a feast at the Royal Palace. He was to provide a map and route through the Deep Roads, marked to the furthest place they tracked Branka. All of that could have been exchanged in a five minute meeting, but of course, Prince Nasty Beard had to drag it on to a two hour feast.

The highlight of the evening would have been the nug steak with deep mushroom cream sauce – King Endrin's favorite before he perished. While Bhelen was distracted with other guests, both Shiva and Loghain poked at it, pretending to be occupied with the dish. It had been a favorite of Shiva's as well, but the meat was musky and overdone, and the sauce was watery. She nearly laughed when Loghain took a big bite and couldn't help but wrinkle his nose. The glare he gave her would have been more intimidating had his cheek not been full of food. She hid her grin behind her goblet of wine, patting Loghain's thigh under the table to help him endure the ruined dish, as if it wouldn't make him angrier.

They were relieved when they got back to their rooms. Shiva stopped Loghain before he retreated to the one he shared with Sten. "Hold your horses, general." He obliged resentfully, turning back to her with a heavy sway while his hand remained on the door. "You should be the one to hold onto this, considering you're the expert." He took the map from her, one he realized he would likely be able to keep, before they said goodnight. They were to rise in the morning and venture to the Deep Roads.

* * *

Oghren was a flurry of motion when he realized he was hearing her right. It was likely that he hadn't had so much excitement from something non-alcoholic since Branka left him with their entire house, except for the time he had spent with Felsi he was so fond of referencing. His position in the warrior caste had been in jeopardy for some time, so it had been long since he was allowed to wield a weapon and venture past the rear gates in the Commons. That was all they needed, a drunk berserker that had been abstinent long enough to drive him to the brink of desperation. He would certainly be an interesting guide.

Not everyone knew what to make of him at first. The warriors and golem seemed indifferent. Morrigan and Zevran were the most repulsed by the dwarf's smell, which was indeed rank. Leliana and Wynne welcomed him, though not for long since he began to be crude soon after. His second glance at Wynne was followed with a thought he shouldn't have spoken aloud. His slightly crossed eyes raked her form while he muttered, "Sure, I'd do her. Why not?"

It was loud enough for most of them to hear. Wynne looked down at him past her nose. "I suppose I should be flattered." Nearby Loghain stood, disgusted by the dwarf's impossibly low standards.

"Sure, sure," the dwarf chuckled. "As long as you let me flatter you with the lights out." By then Shiva was shaking with silent laughter and Loki was panting happily as if he was amused as well.

Vartag interrupted before Wynne could whip up a spell that would return Oghren to the stone, returning his battleaxe and restoring his full warrior status. At least now he stood a chance against the old mage. His status was enough to get them past the guards patrolling the entrance to the Deep Roads.

* * *

Shiva always loved caves – there had been a large one near the village she was raised in, on a continent outside of Thedas. She was lost an entire evening exploring that cave. The thought of starving had her fearful, but she still longed to return after the search party found her deep within. That cave had been more like the mining tunnels. The stone walls shined with a crystal blue from the reflection off the stalactites, and the air was cool. The Deep Roads were stuffy and hot, tunnels wide enough for an army to march through and the ceiling towered high above them. It also held many more dangers.

They had battled nearly a hundred darkspawn by the time they reached Caridin's Cross. If not for Loghain and the map, they would have gone in circles for hours. Shiva was relieved she was able to stand back and let someone else lead for a time, though she kept an eye on Oghren. Thankfully, he was capable enough and the only one who could have pointed out Branka's signature markings on the walls and pillars. He was able to lead them to Ortan Thaig.

As they left Caridin's Cross, Shiva slowed to walk alongside Shale to share her discovery about golems. "Ever wonder where you came from, Shale?"

"From time to time, yes. But what really matters is what I am now." The golem thudded along the path apathetically.

"So the fact that you were once a person is of no importance to you?"

"Fact? Did it call it a fact? Where does it get this 'fact'?" Amazing how it could go from bored to indignant in mere seconds.

"I read it in Caridin's journal. They had it at the Shaperate. I take it you can't remember whether you were a girl or a boy?"

"A squishy creature, ugh! I am insulted. It speaks rubbish, surely. Walk away from me before I squish it."

"Fine, fine. I think you were a woman, considering your attitude." She retreated when the eyebrow pebbles sunk to meet the glowing sockets.

They were hushed when they heard clicking. "Watch yourselves," Loghain warned. "Spiders."

They proved to be a problem. She liked them small enough to crawl along her finger. But when one knocked her down and had a stinger as long as her dagger, she wasn't so fond of them. When they surrounded an orge, spitting poison, stinging and biting at the huge darkspawn, she could tolerate the lesser of two evils.

They were able to kill the spiders afterwards, the ogre reduced their numbers with powerful swings of its massive fists. Even outnumbering the spiders two to one, they were difficult. When they were all dead, Morrigan squatted near one to peer at it analytically. When she shifted into the spiders form, Sten and Wynne scowled at the use of magic almost as forbidden as blood magic. To them, it was primitive and dangerous.

Loghain puffed as he cleaned their blood and venom from his sword on the fallen ogre's loincloth. "I can't help but recall my first trip to Ortan Thaig with Maric. An elven bard that was with us got stung by a spider much like these. Should have let the bitch rot in here."

They entered a grand chamber beyond the next few curves of the dark tunnel. Loghain recognized it – setting the webs aflame, taking refuge in one of the buildings, that night with Rowan. He was grateful golems and spirits attacked, battle was a welcome distraction.

Shale was alarmed by his mindless stone-kin, worrying at what reason they had become mad. They did not resemble it, either. They were far broader and did not have the crystals that adorned Shale's wrists and shoulders. The golems also had heads shaped as if they wore helmets. Shale revealed how Wilhelm had him 'shrunk down.' It took a chisel and a lot of nerve, apparently.

At the end of the chamber the paths split, as did their group. Oghren, Shiva, Leliana, Sten and Loki went down one path and Loghain, Wynne, Morrigan, Zevran, and Shale went the other. Their paths merged on the other side of a thick wall, each group having fought half a dozen darkspawn. They stood near a low bench, upon which sat an open book. Oghren jogged over to it, muttering as he read. "Branka was thinkin' about me! I knew she still cared. Ol' softie. She headed toward the Dead Trenches, thinking the Anvil of the Void was on the other side. Better get a firm hold on your britches, it's going to be one hell of a battle up ahead." He trudged forward, more determined than ever.

* * *

Shiva was down on one knee, with a hideous mound of flesh slumped over her. Her blade fell from her grasp. She never wanted to see a broodmother again. The sac behind the monster had ruptured during the battle, coating the area in a repugnant slime. Tentacles were severed, some still twitched. Shiva looked above her at the face once more. The skin had stretched so rapidly when the female dwarf grew, ripped open the mouth to reveal a large portion of the teeth and gums. Its sight was poor – that they used to their advantage – since the skin was pulled over its skull so far the cheeks covered half of the beady orbs. The body shook and squelched as Oghren removed his battleaxe from the back of its head. The dwarf slid down rolls of fat and fell on the ground. He stood shakily.

Shiva rose to her feet as well and looked for the others. Zevran had been knocked unconscious by a tentacle. Morrigan applied a poultice and helped him to his feet when he came to. Shale stood at the back in complete disgust. The rest had been occupied keeping the surge of darkspawn from overwhelming them as they went directly for the broodmother. A haggard dwarf that had been stalking them muttered from the cliff above. Her ravings were punctuated with wheezes and gasps. The dwarf scratched at her face, shaking her head jerkily as she stared at the broodmother, whom she claimed to know, before jumping off the cliff. What spilled out of her was black.

It was time to move forward. Most of them were forced to limp onward in search of Branka and the Anvil of the Void – their next stop.

* * *

They recovered during the walk toward the Anvil. Shiva and Loghain exchanged glances, wondering if the other could feel any traces of darkspawn. They jumped when the crack of a trapdoor resounded. It blocked the exit after they passed through. The Paragon herself met them.

Oghren was grinning from ear to ear under his beard. "Well shave my back and call me an elf! Branka? By the stone, I hardly recognized you!"

"Oghren. I'm surprised you managed to find me. And who are they? Some errand boys you picked up along the way?" She did not match Oghren's excitement about their reunion.

"Watch your language, woman! These two are Grey Wardens! We need you to get your arse back to the Assembly and vote for a king."

"Ah, so _important_ errand boys then. Has King Endrin died? I'm only surprised he didn't croak sooner." Speaking of croak, Shiva's nose wrinkled at the woman's irritating voice and attitude. She could easily repay her for some of her rudeness.

"I'm surprised _you_ haven't croaked. Two years in the Deep Roads and nothing to show for it? Or are you guarding your find?" She ended her question in a disbelieving sneer.

"Bah! You think you can do better? Go right ahead! My entire house fell to Caridin's traps and the only way to the Anvil is through them. You don't stand a chance of succeeding at what even I could not." The Paragon of Bitchiness walked away. Oghren scurried around the bend after her.

All but a few traps had been triggered by members of her house, but the darkspawn remained. Shiva stopped counting at seventeen darkspawn and four golems before the ogre appeared. Maker's balls, the mighty Paragon was simply watching from a safe distance. It gave her the fury to keep fighting.

Their whole house had died. She had no one left and there were half a dozen golems ahead, guarding the Anvil of the Void. Branka was downright obsessed. Homicidally so.

Wardens prevailed where the Paragon got stumped, unwilling to march forward and use her own might to get what she wanted. Shiva was in the lead when they met a metal golem. Its voice echoed within its own steel chest.

"My name is Caridin."

Shiva raised a brow. "As in Caridin's Cross, Paragon Caridin?"

"You have heard of me," the golem confirmed. "It has been centuries longer than I can recall since anyone ventured here. Please stranger, aid me. Help me destroy the Anvil of the Void. Its creation is my greatest sin."

Shale approached the other golem. "So it was right when it said golems are made from people. I thought it was a pathetic jest."

"That voice," Caridin considered Shale. "I know that voice anywhere. The first volunteer from house Cadash. Shale."

"It… you… made me a golem. I volunteered? I remember. House Cadash." Shale had never been rendered practically speechless. "We will help Caridin, yes? It seems the right thing to do." All of the golem's usual snarky remarks were absent, replaced by determination.

"No!" Branka ran to them as fast as her short, armored legs would allow. "Don't listen to him! He's been rotting down here, stewing in his own madness! Think of what Orzammar could do with it! An army of golems. We can reclaim the glory all dwarves once had, look at us now! Nug wranglers and warriors with blunted weapons." Branka scoffed after her analysis of modern Orzammar.

"And you claim to be sane, Branka?" Shiva watched her clench her fists, taking her analysis worth a grain of salt. "No, we are not meant to live beyond our natural lifespan. If we were meant to be made of stone, the Maker would have created us that way." Shale, Leliana and Wynne beamed at her decision.

"Come on, Warden. Just give her the damn thing! She'll calm down once she has it!" Oghren's hands were flailing to emphasize his plea.

"Oghren, see what she is doing. Do you think she cares for you as she used to? She would turn you into a golem in a heartbeat. She doesn't care you'd be dead aside from thoughts and movements. Every joy of living – every physical feeling would be taken from you. You would be more durable so you could endure more suffering. Everything except your soul would be stronger. Are you prepared to face that? For a woman that does not love you?" Shiva felt the pain radiating off of him as he listened to her. Oghren stared at his feet, realizing the truth of her words. The woman that was once his wife was a stranger to him, didn't love him.

They had to kill her. It was unavoidable if they were to destroy the Anvil. She drew a control rod from her pack. "I won't have you take this away from me, you cloud-blinded bitch. Golems, attack!" The six stone golems snapped into action, charging at the group in the center. Shiva checked behind her to make sure large steel fists wouldn't pummel her, but Caridin was slumped. Streams of lightning zapped across his plates. He would neither help nor hinder them that way.

Shale sneered at the control rod. The memory of Shiva smashing the control rod that imprisoned her will was certainly a fond one. Shale engaged the nearest golem. Her smaller size was an advantage, as were the crystals embedded in her. She was the swifter of the two and caused the golem elemental damage that confused and chilled it. Morrigan and Wynne each cast concentrated ice spells to stiffen another golem's arms and Sten chipped away at it. The others were dodging attacks from the remaining golems. Shiva sprinted toward Branka, who was trying to make herself a widow. Oghren blocked her strikes with the handle of his battleaxe, begging her to screw her head on straight.

The Paragon ignored him, glaring at Shiva as she approached with her sword and dagger drawn. Branka gave him a low blow, then bashed him aside with her shield so she could deal with the warden. Shiva raised her sword arm high overhead, swinging with all her strength to strike the block she predicted. She let her sword fall behind her, knocked back by the block, and moved to stab Branka on the other side with her dagger, where she could not move her shield quick enough. Branka caterwauled, mouth open wide to the ceiling as she threw her head back. Shiva jumped backwards as Branka swung her sword. Shiva retrieved hers from the ground, remaining in a kneel so Branka would charge. She did just that, and Shiva jumped to the side the control rod was partially tucked away. Branka dropped her sword and shield, grabbing the rod with both hands.

"Don't even think about it, bitch. It's mine! You or that fool I married will never take it from me!" Oghren had left Branka's fate in Shiva's hands, opting for a more neutral battle with a golem.

Shiva struggled to keep her hold on the rod with one hand, and her sword in the other. She held the rod near the middle, raising it like she was lifting a weight. Branka held it on either end.

"Careful," Shiva taunted. "It might break." She raised her sword high, pommel down, and brought it down on the center of the control rod with great force. It snapped in two, the momentum Shiva had going sent the pommel further into Branka's mouth, knocking her front teeth loose. Around them, Caridin regained his mobility and the remaining five golems gained free will, just as Shale had. They were pacified.

Branka stumbled back, hand cupped under her mouth to catch the blood that dripped. She was disarmed, Shiva kicked her sword and shield toward Oghren hoping Branka would surrender. Instead, she ran for the Anvil, greedy to get her hands on it even if she would be cut down before seeing it in use. She had to bypass Caridin to do so, the steel golem grabbed her entire head in his hand and hoisted her off the ground. With an about face that he used for momentum, he threw her over the side of the cliff into the lava below.

Caridin calmly – supposedly calmly, it was hard to tell with no facial expression – returned to his position facing the entrance of the chamber. "Thank you, strangers. If you could but do one final favor for me and destroy the Anvil, I could perhaps find peace."

It was done. Shiva, Sten, Loghain, Oghren, and Leliana pushed the Anvil over the edge of the crag after Caridin forged a crown for the king – the Paragon did not cast a vote, unwilling to hear about the candidates. Zevran and Morrigan did not help, offended by Shiva's curt rejection of their wish to keep the Anvil. The others watched.

The crown from the Wardens and Paragon convinced the deshyrs as well as Harrowmont – the king of Orzammar. Bhelen was outraged by Shiva's choice. He was not aware she bore no love for him because of his treachery and had been in Orzammar when the eldest brother was murdered and the second child blamed. Bhelen's scheme was too perfect and many in Orzammar saw through it. Showing his true colors, Bhelen attacked his opposition. He was defeated by the wardens, deshyrs and the king's guards.

Harrowmont was shocked by what occurred, but it was in his authority to send the army to aid the Grey Wardens when the time came and he agreed to do so.

Oghren no longer had anything in Orzammar. The trip back was speant mourning for his wife and he was ready for change. He needed to be far away from the place that would never feel like home again. He would follow Shiva to the surface.

Everyone met at in the Hall of Heroes. Wynne, Leliana, and Dagna were the last to arrive, the latter holding the bard's nug, teaching her how to properly care for it. They would drop the young dwarf off at the Circle. They would accept her, like it or not. Hopefully they would accept the nug, too. And Leliana if it came to that. None were magical, but they were all cheery to the point of causing great aggravation, and most of the time they were utterly useless.


	25. Forbidden Fruit

Borrowed Time, Ch 25 – Forbidden Fruit

AN: This chapter is rated M, no intimacy though. It's 'revealing', but you'll see.

* * *

They had set up camp over an hour before. The girls already bathed in Lake Calenhad and it was the men's turn to wash. They strolled through the thick patch of forest that lay between their camp and the lake. Shiva passed Oghren's offer of dwarven ale for the moment, promising to join him later. She walked toward the trees that she had seen Morrigan slink through.

She was nearly to the other side, walking quietly so the men would not try to shield their nakedness from her eyes, which she could not see from where she was. A suspicious looking cat was sitting in on a thick branch in the tree beside Shiva. The feline with silky black fur and yellow eyes quietly stared at the men. It made no move as Shiva climbed the tree and sat next to it. A soft, pointed ear turned toward her to listen to her.

"Wow, what a great view." It was indeed. The spot was shaded enough so they weren't seen, but could see the bathing area. They were close, so Shiva had to whisper. Morrigan wondered if the pirate knew it was she. "If you had to pick one, which would you choose? And I know you know what for. Would it be Sten? I've seen the way you flirt with him." Morrigan changed back into human form, the strong branch not even shifting under the extra weight.

"He would be my choice under normal circumstances, but now that I am able to get a better look at the selection, let me see." Oghren hadn't joined them yet, so Loghain, Sten, and Zevran were bathing below them. Both girls hungrily scanned the specimens in the water. Zevran was moving constantly, turning every way as he gestured and talked to the men with him. They were in a shallow part of the lake, staying near their equipment and Zev was standing in thigh deep water. They could easily see… well, everything.

He was lean, his muscles more cut than either of the women had seen on any elf, which was the first choice for neither of them as far as typical racial features went. But he was tempting. He was tan and rivulets of water were running down his body. Shiva would gladly lick them off, even if she decided long ago she would never be intimate with him. She just didn't like that he was… too experienced, to put it mildly. She shared as much with Morrigan as they analyzed the men aloud. As for the most important part of the elf, he couldn't keep up with the other two.

Sten was scratching his stomach. He stood in a deeper spot than Zevran, but with his height, the water reached his thighs as well. His shoulders were broad and he looked like a copper statue – muscles so taut under his skin he looked in no way soft – not anywhere. Apparently something down there was to his _liking_. Morrigan stared at his length… at length. Her mind seemed made up, but she also gave Loghain a chance.

The warden was washing his hair, standing where the water just met the bottom of his arse. Faint scars decorated his pale skin along his arms and back. When he turned to glare at Zevran for something particularly obnoxious he said, the girls could see his chest, stomach, manhood. Loghain had course black hair sprawling on his chest, trailing down to his navel and below to his treasure. Shiva bit her lip as she gazed at him, half erect. His length was hard to determine. She cursed the water level where he stood, but was grateful for the taste.

"My choice remains Sten. He is superior in strength, length and girth." Morrigan's full lips were drawn into a wide smile.

"There's something about Loghain. I've always liked stoic men with light skin and black hair. It's like he walked out of one of my wet dreams." Shiva couldn't believe she was blushing.

"He is tempting for someone his age. I find that his face dampens his appeal. That being said, I would not turn him down."

"Son of a bitch," Shiva slapped her forehead with her palm. "We're wardens! He might be able to feel me here!" Morrigan nearly laughed loud enough for them to hear.

"I hope they do catch you up here. If so, I shall simply turn into a bird to make my escape and they will be none the wiser."

Shiva was chuckling too. "I don't suppose you could find a way to teach me real quick?"

"Unfortunately, you must remain disappointed." They worked to stifle their giggles, focusing once again on the men.

Zevran was rinsing his hair, enjoying the moonlit bath, and realizing it was romantic, even though it was being spent with two men that had minimal sex appeal. That made it just creepy, so why not make it uncomfortable for them? "Sten, do qunari have violent mating rituals?"

"What?" Sten stopped unbraiding his hair to glare at the elf.

"Well, do you? It would not surprise me if you stomped around your females like brontos. Snorting and huffing, bending over to rest your chin on her backside until she let you mount her. Is that how it is done?" Zevran was chuckling at his own scenario.

"What do you think?" Sten was not amused. The girls were - their mouths were clamped shut in an attempt to keep silent.

Zevran sighed, turning to Loghain. "I imagine the conception of a future queen must have been magical."

"She was conceived like any other," he replied evenly, scrubbing suds in his hair. He talked through his teeth as he bit the rope that was secured around his bar of soap.

Zevran was relentless. "Ah, but the experiences vary. I know that well and you cannot convince me otherwise."

"There is no damn way I'm revealing that experience to you, elf. Or anyone." He unwound his wind braids, glaring at the assassin who finally retreated.

Everyone stopped when they heard heavy shuffling and panting. Someone was running their direction. As they neared, their excited grunts became audible. A pasty white and very nude dwarf burst from the throng of trees, bounded up a large boulder and leapt off of it.

"Nug di-ive!" His short, furry arms and legs were drawn close to his body to mimic a nug's squat. The splash he caused was big enough to drench the other men. Zevran laughed heartily, while Loghain grumbled, wiping soap out of his burning eyes. As traumatized as they were from the sight of Oghren naked, they girls were hardly able to contain themselves. Their hands covered their noses to their chins as they tried not to give away their position.

Shiva nearly fell out of the tree when she shifted, lowering her head too fast and upsetting her balance. Had she not fallen so she straddled the branch, and had Morrigan not gripped her arm to keep her from falling, she surely would have. It made the situation that much funnier. Her forced chuckle sounded like a sneeze, causing the men to look around before shrugging at the sound. Shiva wheezed 'thanks' to the witch.

Sten was standing near Oghren as the dwarf waded around, water reaching midway up his belly. The qunari swiped with his oversized paw, knocking Oghren underwater and held his head for several seconds. Bubbles burst at the surface next to a floating red beard.

"The sight of your flying, unclothed body was disturbing," the qunari harrumphed. He stomped away as well as he could underwater until he stood on the bank. He remained still as he waited to dry, with his arse toward the others.

Zevran turned from the offended qunari back to the dwarf. "I would have to agree. I never wanted to see your bollocks sway and flop about that much. Ever."

The girls left for camp as Zevran tried to teach the dwarf how to float. They had seen more than enough for one night.

When they were out of earshot, Morrigan casually brought up a request she had been considering for some time. "I wonder if we could search for something when we get to the tower," she began cryptically. "A grimoire – one that once belonged to my mother. It was taken by a templar long ago, before I was born, so I assume it ended up with the mages. To this day she speaks of the loss with great irritation and I do not want to pass up the chance to learn secrets she never intended for me to know."

"Of course. I remember the First Enchanter's office had a great deal of books. If they have it, it would most likely be locked down somewhere he could keep an eye on it." Too bad this hadn't been brought to her attention before, when the tower was in disarray. It would have been much easier to search.

"Excellent. I would be most grateful if we are able to retrieve it. If not, I shall think of it no longer. The journal is leather bound with the symbol of a leafless tree. I dare not venture to the tower, as before, lest one of the fool templars try to keep me there."

"That's wise. I'll be sure to look for it when we get there."

Morrigan and Shiva parted, each going toward their tents. Leliana was near Shiva's, bent over the cooking pot while Dagna stood near. Wynne had her tent tucked into the corner where two bushes met and the mage sat near it, slumped and weary.

Leliana was hardly a better cook than Alistair. Shiva and Oghren drowned the taste of her burnt porridge with dwarven ale and both of them were having fun picking on her until she retreated into her tent for the night. Shiva started stumbling toward her tent until she saw Wynne still by her tent, having not eaten anything. With her last traces of sobriety, Shiva walked to the old mage to see if something was wrong.

"You arright?" Shiva worked hard not to sway over her as the woman picked up her head and stood to talk to her.

"Yes dear, just tired. It's been a long day." Shiva's nod was jerky, but it was good enough to show her agreement. She stood there silently as Wynne examined her.

"Cailan was not a fool." Her lips pursed. Shiva simply 'hmphed' at her. "If there was anything he did wrong, it was trust that man you recruited."

Shiva scoffed. "You act azzif Loghain's the firsht pershin to killa king - but ish been done before Wynne, in brillianter and more outright ways. If, and I say IF he even intended to kill the king, ish Cailans own damn fault for walking on over to his death by trying to be a hero when he should have listened to Duncan AND Loghain when they said he was being overzealish and recklish." She nodded at her own words. A loud THWACK of wood hitting bone was heard, and Shiva felt the trickle of blood running down her neck. She wiped at the back of her head and pulled away a hand coated in blood. Too drunk to even feel the pain.

"Wy-yne! I need heali-ing," she whined. Wynne still had her staff in her hand from striking her with it.

"If you bleed to death it will be your own foolishness that caused it."

"No? No, I think the cause would be blood loss." She laid down where she was and Wynne stormed off to the other side of camp. Morrigan approached and knelt beside Shiva with a rag and a poultice.

"Twas possibly the most entertaining thing I have seen since traveling with the preachy hag," she mused. She bandaged up a now unconscious Grey Warden and cast her very limited healing spell. Loki trotted up and licked blood off the grass.

* * *

She awoke the next morning in a tent that was not her own. She squinted as the covering did not fully shield her from the sun's brightness and Maker's breath, did her head hurt.

_Is this what a hangover feels like?_

A body behind her shifted. Zevran peeked over her shoulder to see if she was awake, wrapped his arm around her waist when he saw it was so. "My dear, you must choose your words carefully with the old mage. She still has a lot of bite. She would have left you out in the rain but I, being a gentleman, brought you to my tent so you could be warm and dry."

"Mmmm… we're in your tent?" She groaned.

"Si, Bella. I kept you warm, as I just said." Her tent was right next to his, he could have easily dragged her a few feet further. That's not suspicious at all. Shiva stretched her legs as much as she could, wiggled her hips and rubbed her thighs together.

Zev laughed. "What is with this little dance? Are you trying to seduce me? Cuz it's working!" He trailed his hand across her hip, his tone getting sultrier with the idea of early morning lovemaking.

"I'm checking for soreness, cuz if I know you, I've been violated. It's what I would have done, anyway." Even though she wasn't sore, she still didn't believe he hadn't done anything. Worst of all, she didn't remember – for if he had lain with her, permission or no, she would have liked to experience it. Leliana was going to be pissed.

"Since I am not eager to lose my cannoli, I did not. I did, however, take a quick peek." Shiva felt under the blanket and sure enough, her armor wasn't on. It was piled beside her. Luckily she still had her clothes on.

"Oh," was all she said at first. "Liked what you saw?"

"I certainly did! You have a marvelous bosom and backside. I was finally able to see your tattoo. A piece of art!"

"Thank you, Zev. The next time you are incapacitated in my presence I will do the same to you." Any attempt to hide her smirk would have been futile.

_Audacious little bastard. _

Zevran leaned close to her. His breath caused her hair to tickle her face as he spoke. "Why haven't we made love yet?"

"I'm off limits for you, handsome."

He whined his most pitiful 'aww.' "Sometimes forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest."

"And sometimes you realize why it's forbidden when you eat it and get sick as a dog... Or die."

He took rejection well, lightly kissing her temple. "All right, bella. But I'm kicking you out of my tent since I don't get anything from you." He tried tempting her into staying, pressing his body against her back. She could feel that his chest was bare and his erection dug into her backside. She playfully swatted him away and got up, snatching her armor and exiting the tent. Leliana, Loghain, and Loki were already up. Shale was continuing her constant vigil since she never slept.

The bard refused to look at Shiva until her back was turned, gazing sadly at the pirate's back. She abruptly turned around and started taking her own tent down.

Loghain approached Shiva's tent, patiently waiting until he was noticed. "You said you valued any advice I had – that I should speak if I saw a misstep. Last night was one. Such a glaring one I shouldn't even have to say it."

"Right." What Shiva really meant was 'you're right,' but she already felt like a complete fool.

"Is that all you have to say for yourself?" His arms were crossed over his chest. She tried to keep her mind from all that she had saw of him the night before, he still wasn't wearing his armor. The tunic he wore for sleep was loose, but the way he folded his arms had the fabric against his skin, following the contours of his chest and stomach. He didn't seem to notice when she licked her lips.

"What do you want from me? An apology? That should mean little to someone like you. Better if I simply express it by not doing so again."

"See that you don't." He walked back to his own area, not willing to hear any of her false promises.

Leliana was the next to approach her. "So, how was he?" Her attitude said she definitely didn't want to know. It was clear she was hurt from her bitter lisping.

Shiva hated using the 'it's not what it looks like' line, but such was the case. "Did you see what happened? I was drunk," that definitely wasn't a good start. A darker shadow crossed her face. "I passed out beside Wynne's tent and he brought me to his. Anything that may have passed between us – and he says nothing did – was when I was out cold. I wouldn't betray you like that, I swear it."

"Am I supposed to believe that? You flirt with him, and you disrespect me every chance you get!" Her arms were locked by her side, fists clenched.

"Ask Morrigan, my head wound was healed to some extent and I doubt it was Wynne that did so considering it was she that inflicted it. My flirting with Zevran is nothing but empty words. I know I don't treat you as you deserve and I'm sorry, but for the time being I am yours and you are the only person that has my attention." Shiva was earnest, the guilt she felt about being foolish was twice as heavy as she tried to get Leliana to believe her.

"For the time being," Leliana mimicked sadly. Well, that probably wasn't the best thing to say, true as it was. There was no way they would be a permanent match. Shiva didn't regard her as highly as half of those she traveled with – Morrigan, Oghren, Loghain, even the damn dog was preferable during their time outside of the bedroll. She was a friend, but Shiva knew even that would not last once their time traveling was over.

The bard turned away, wondering whether she should end it herself or enjoy the time they had left, before the woman she grew to love coldly discarded her.

* * *

Dagna's eyes shined like stars when she walked into the tower for the first time. It was as if the dull stone walls were made of gold. Knight-Commander Gregoir paid no heed to the dwarf since they were not magic users. He instead scowled at Wynne's return. She greeted him warmly, as much as they didn't get along the other occupants of the tower were like a distant family who was forced to remain under one roof. After all, Wynne had found the company at camp insufferable since Alistair left. She would take the templars over the rest any day.

She remained to get the latest gossip from him while Shiva and Zevran escorted Dagna to the First Enchanter's office. The mage that was older than Wynne – and time itself – greeted them with his snail paced, croaking voice. "Welcome, Warden. It is good to see the savior of the tower again. What has brought you here?"

She draped her arm around Dagna, the young dwarf was on the verge of fainting. "Allow me to introduce Dagna. She is interested in studying the theory of magic. I understand an immediate acceptance is highly irregular, but if an exception could be made I'm sure the Circle would benefit."

"Highly irregular indeed, but with the losses we have taken, we certainly have room for her, and someone so eager to learn – yes child, I see the fire in your eyes – will not be turned away."

Dagna filled her lungs to the point of bursting with her gasp. "Oh, First Enchanter, you will not regret this. I am _so_ honored you have no idea."

Irving chuckled, beckoning for her to follow him. "I will have someone escort you to the apprentice quarters so you will know where you'll be sleeping." He stepped into the hall. "Godwin, see that this young…" His voice trailed off as he walked them further.

Shiva elbowed Zevran while he walked out. They had their eye on a large, ornate golden chest in the far corner. Shiva nonchalantly stood at the door, ready to cough in case Irving came back before Zev could pick the lock. The mage Godwin, Rogek's associate in the smuggled lyrium dealings, was the only one of them facing Shiva. When he was staring at the far wall, wishing Irving would speed things up, his eye got caught when a blue nugget flashed into his view. He gawked at it, wondering if his mind played tricks on him, when Shiva tucked it back into her pouch and gave him a wink.

She heard the lock click open before Irving finished explaining the general routine to Dagna. Zevran tucked the grimoire he found that matched Morrigan's description into his pack, closing the chest and jogging back to where Shiva stood.

Irving patted Dagna on the shoulder. "Enjoy your first day at the tower, Dagna, and welcome to your new home. You may sit in with the apprentice's lessons starting tomorrow until we get you a special arrangement."

Godwin kept glancing to Shiva. "Right then! I'll just escort her to the apprentice quarters… on the first floor… and that's where I'll be."

"Yes, very good Godwin. You are excused." Irving returned to his office. "Warden, are you going to be staying long? I can have the guest quarters prepared."

"Unnecessary, but I thank you. I need to return to the rest of my group so we can return to our base. Expect word to arrive from Soldier's Peak when we are ready to call upon your force for the Blight."

"Of course, the mages will be ready." They bowed to one another and Shiva headed back to the first floor.

"Make sure that goofy templar will be ready to go. There's one more thing I need to take care of." Zev nodded and trotted to the exit.

Shiva approached Dagna and Godwin, addressing her dwarven friend first. "Well, here you are. Excited?"

"Yes! A thousand times yes! The surface is great. It's cold but I can totally live with that. The lake and the tower – its just heavenly. Thank you, I would never be here if it weren't for you." Dagna collided with Shiva, giving her a tight hug. They said their goodbyes and she resumed unpacking while Shiva stepped closer to Godwin.

The mage shifted uncomfortably. "Um, perhaps we should, ahem, step over here?" He walked stiffly to the dividers where the apprentices washed and got dressed. None were there now since they were engaged in their studies elsewhere. "Now, what is it you were trying to show me?" He kept looking at the corner as if he expected a rage demon to come around any second.

"Rogek seemed to have 'misplaced' his merchandise. You're dealing with me now, spitfire. I have four nuggets, twenty sovereigns each." Her arms folded as she assumed her haggling position.

"That is outrageous," he spat.

"Is it? Let's ask Gregoir."

"No! I'll pay 60, not a copper more." He tried to match her stance, looking quite silly when he cocked his hip like she did.

"75, little spitfire, or I scream for the templars." She normally hated this game, but this time it was fun.

"70 sovereigns it is." He reached for his coinpurse to end the discussion.

"Who said 70 was enough? 74!" She smiled at his shakiness.

"Maker's breath, no! I don't even get to keep all of it!. Tell you what, 72. That is my final offer. And if you say 73 I'm setting the whole tower on fire."

She laughed at his threat, though not mockingly. "I'd kind of like to see that! But we have come to an agreement. 72 sovereigns for the lot." She dug the lyrium out of her satchel and made the exchange. "Business as usual from now on."

Her coinpurse was heavy enough to give her a satisfied smile. Zevran nudged her constantly as they crossed Lake Calenhad, trying to find out how much she had gotten for the deal. She shut him up by handing him a sovereign for his help. The other sovereign was for her to keep, leaving an even 70 to put into the treasury at the Peak. She was ready to go back to their new home. Riordan was there by then, he would know what to do next.


	26. Eulogy

Borrowed Time, Ch 26 – Eulogy

AN: Rated M for sexual references. I included something from the game that sealed the deal as far as my Loghain fangirlness went.

* * *

Riordan was in the courtyard when Shiva and her companions returned. He took Shiva's hand to welcome her back and asked if she and Loghain would join him in a meeting within once they had settled. The man was all business.

Businessman was going to wait until Shiva drew a bath, she needed to thaw before she'd be ready for the next step. Leliana walked in, unannounced when she decided it was time to mend things between them. The Orlesian hoped their relationship would never end, but couldn't dismiss the nagging in the back of her mind.

She was addicted to the adventure, just as she had been in Orlais and there was a new thrill each time her love took a step. Even their nights, which she knew was the highlight for Shiva, were times she would miss.

Leliana squatted by the bath were Shiva reclined. The pirate turned her head, but didn't look at her. Her arms were resting across the back of the washtub, leaving her body exposed. She watched as the water licked at Shiva's breasts, tracing her collarbone with a finger and laying her chin on her shoulder. She could see Shiva's expression – she hadn't seen her so sad since the days after Alistair left. It had been months already. Leliana sat on her heels to strip so she could join her.

* * *

When Shiva made it to the Commander's quarters, Loghain and Riordan were already talking. Their conversation was clipped and unfriendly, so understandably both were relieved when Shiva entered so they could defer to her instead of each other.

"I understand you have not rested as much as you need so I will keep this short," Riordan stated. "I received a report from the Blackstone Irregulars, the have been keeping an eye out for darkspawn and they informed me that the horde is marching for Redcliff. We need to leave soon."

Loghain frowned. "This is the time to call upon the armies, I assume?"

"Already taken care of," Riordan nodded. "I sent the messengers two days ago. The darkspawn will beat us there, but the army at Redcliff may be able to hold on long enough to live to see reinforcements."

"That's optimistic," Shiva grumbled.

"Take what time you need. We must head for Redcliff soon. No later than the week's end."

"Very well," Shiva sighed. She shook her head. They fell to the whole damn horde just eleven months ago. How much had it grown since? Did the few of them stand a chance?

* * *

Loghain was having difficulty sleeping. The bloody nightmares were keeping him from much needed rest. He had gotten up to pace in the kitchens, looking for something but he knew not what. Perhaps whatever luck he found the night of his Joining, when he rose from sweat drenched sheets and found Shiva in the kitchens to talk him down. The kitchens tonight were cold and empty except for himself. No comfort from his commander.

He shouldn't need comfort from anyone. He was a grown man, damn it, an old man. He could live without those breathtaking blue eyes watching him, those softly curved lips speaking honesty and jests to him. Yes, he was just fine without her.

But was he? Life between Ostagar and the Landsmeet had been hellish. So much that in a night of weakness he sought comfort in the arms of a woman he should have never touched. She had expected more, too, though it was clear he was only in need of her companionship that night. Just one night without the burden of Cailan's death, Anora's grief, the Banns' accusations.

But with Cauthrien, why in Andraste's ass had he done _that_? With_ her_? He woke the next dawn with more anxiety than release, sick from drink from the night before as she still slept in his bed. Right where he should never have let her be. He got minimal pleasure from bedding her, something gnawing at the back of his mind as well as a million other reasons kept him from enjoying himself. But her affection for him grew, the one he ignored for so long thinking, hoping it would fade once she opened her eyes and saw him for the cantankerous, haggard old man that he was.

Shiva didn't see it either. She saw a brother in arms, a soldier – one with more experience and wisdom than she ever expected to have. He was fine with that, though he would prefer if she switched her idea of him with Cauthrien.

No, that didn't make sense! She was still too young, it was still inappropriate. He shouldn't think of bedding another woman since Celia's death. He had produced an heir, and he couldn't ask for a better child than Anora. He wasn't meant to have more adventures between the sheets than that. That's just not the sort of thing his life allowed. His body begged to differ. Another downside of the Joining. He was grateful for the heavy armor he wore, his appreciation of the way Shiva bent over without caring who was behind her, moved her hips with each step, and stretched her back in the evenings around the fire was well hidden.

Loghain gave up. He recovered from the nightmare, cursing himself for thinking of Shiva's body to do so, and was ready to return to his room to do something about his current state. He was far from tired, but perhaps tending to his arousal would be enough to relax him.

When he turned, he ran into a knee high, solid mass. He glared downwards, past his erection to see a black muzzle, parted to release a long, lolling tongue.

"What are you doing up at this hour, hm?" Loghain sat on a nearby stool, holding his hand out to the Mabari. The hound licked his hand, making the general smile. He thought with bitter pride that this was the one member of camp he truly got along with.

* * *

Shiva rose from sleep, a large furry warmth near the foot of the bed was noticeably absent. It was early, she knew – just past dawn, she guessed from the miniscule amount of light streaming through the window. She walked out of her chambers, through the corridors until she heard a deep, rumbling voice – from the kitchens?

She stood at the threshold. Loghain was feeding Loki bits of ham, earning excited huffing and drool on his shoes.

"I had a mabari once. Adalla – that was her name. We found her in the wood shed one night. She was still a pup then, we never figured out where she came from. My mother called her a gift from the Maker. And she was… She really was." He was smiling in a way he didn't let himself, or maybe didn't get the opportunity to, around people.

"She was beautiful," he continued. "She had a lovely chestnut brown coat, and the most intelligent, understanding eyes. You would have liked her. We grew up together. She never left my side, not once. Ten years we had her, before she was taken away." All contentment he had when he remembered his pet drained into dejection.

"This was when Orlais still ruled and it was an Orlesian lordling who took her. He wanted to mix the blood of our noble Mabari with their frail, wasp waisted game hounds, which were bred for looks, not intelligence. I tried to keep her, but there was little I could do to stop the Orlesian… I wasn't even a man then. You can imagine what it was like for her, being torn away from the boy – the family she was bonded to. It was six months before we saw her again. The Orlesian returned her – and when I say 'returned,' I mean 'pushed her out of his wagon.' She was skin and bone, and still carried the scars from where their pronged collars bit into her neck. She never quite recovered. She passed away after a week. It was as though she held on long enough to come home to us. I held her head in my lap, and I believe she died happy." He ended his eulogy with a heavy sigh.

Shiva didn't move from where she stood, but her eyes were large and tears welled up. She couldn't believe she was so moved. Loki noticed her, reflecting her sympathy with a sad, long whine.

"None of that from you, dog. Finish your snack," Loghain gently ordered.

"Am I allowed?" Loghain turned to Shiva with surprise, even more so when he saw she had tears in her eyes and an unhappy pout. She leaned against the doorframe, scratching at the wooden beam with her nail.

He half chuckled, half grunted at her reaction. "You're serious, aren't you?" She stepped forward to kneel next to her dog, who was for once taking his time eating. Her head was level with Loghain's knee and he was uncomfortable with her proximity in that position.

"I don't know what I'd do about that. Pets are my weakness. That and family, likely because they are synonymous." He had to agree as he watched her pet the hound.

"Better be damned grateful Maric and I drove those bastards out. Such cruelty is their nature," he muttered contemptuously.

She rose quickly, outstretched arms wrapped around him in a hug before he could object. "I am grateful. Thank you for kicking their asses, Loghain." His jaw dropped. Without thinking, he placed a hand on her back as a semi-returned hug. When he caught himself, he snapped his mouth shut and backed away a fraction. She took the hint and released him, leaned against the table beside him with her arms crossed, watching the dog as Loghain watched her.

He thought ironically that the dog may have been pleased by their contact. He had confided his interest in the woman to the dog. But mabari were trustworthy – his secret was safe.

He still couldn't believe she hugged him. Maker, help him – he could feel her as if she was still pressed against his body. He shook his head. "You must be delirious. Were you awakened with nightmares last night as well, or is there another reason for your mood?" Come to think of it, he probably didn't want to know.

"Just not looking forward to Redcliff, I guess. I fully expected to die at Ostagar. Maybe that luck was a one time thing, or my death was postponed until the day I have something to lose."

"Don't say that." It was something that made his heart sink, but that wasn't what he would tell her. "You are the commander, or at least the closest to one we have. Riordan can go back to Orlais for all we care. We follow you, and if everyone sees that you're disheartened, morale will plummet – and if I've learned anything as a general, it's that morale is a powerful tool. It can work for or against you. We have the skill to make it through, but if you convince yourself you don't have the stomach for it, we're all doomed." He raised a brow when she saw her purse her lips to fight a smile.

"With these speeches and a dash of 'Maker this, Maker that,' some chantry robes might suit you." She giggled at his scowl before growing serious. "I hear you, and you're right. Again." He hummed as if he was agreeing with the obvious. A comfortable silence lasted several minutes before Shiva drew a deep breath and shifted. "We head for Redcliff tomorrow. Everyone is in dire need of rest, and I'm going back to bed." He didn't notice her hand was on his arm until he felt it slide away.

Loki was torn between following his mistress and staying put. Truth be told, Loghain felt the same. He stood from the stool he had been sitting on for hours, his legs wobbly from disuse and the uncomfortable pressure that was at the back of his leg, and he walked as briskly as the discomfort allowed. He caught up to Shiva when she was at her chamber door and he was standing near his, hand on the wall and suddenly very awkward. Shiva heard his steps, had turned and was giving him a worried look. "Are you alright?"

"Oh Maker, my foot's asleep," he muttered. He limped into his chambers and slammed the door so he could lean against it until the discomfort tingling up his leg passed. Thank Andraste it caught his attention. He heard the sound of a door shut in the hall, refusing to believe that he had actually followed her to – no, he couldn't think about it.

He was such a fool.


	27. The Bigger They Are

Borrowed Time, Ch 27 – The Bigger They Are…

Rating – definite M for smut

AN: For the opening scene for this chapter, I imagine them where Duncan first encounters darkspawn in the prologue, before the character creation screen comes up. It's all pretty and cliffy. This was going to be the chapter with Ostagar, but I'm putting that between Origins and Awakening.

* * *

Shiva stood along the steep dip of a cliff, looking south. Where she stood was cold, but the grass was lush and green under her boots. It was hard to believe she wasn't on the edge of the world, the scene before her was a landscape painting and one step would have her falling into an abyss. A white blanket covered the lands to the south. The sky above was blue and cloudless.

They followed the West Road, intending to reach Redcliff that time tomorrow. The lake was to the north, snowy mountains to the southwest, marshlands southeast – they would see all the varieties of Ferelden climate in one trip, each area idyllic in it's own way.

Idyllic except for the darkspawn corruption. Lothering was burnt to the ground when they passed, though it was hard to be worse off than when Shiva passed through with Alistair, even with such destruction. They encountered small bands of the creatures as they neared their destination. The groups of enemies arose more frequently as they ventured onward. Even now Shiva could feel the needle sharp heat that indicated they were near. It was opposite from where she felt Loghain. She was alone with him, the general climbing rocks with ease to get a better look around. Wynne and the others were looking for supplies – the area had plenty of elfroot for Wynne to make poultices out of and deathroot for Zevran and Leliana's poisons. 'Better safe than sorry,' she said when they were hesitant to stop for the supplies. That was when the restless wardens scouted ahead.

Low growls got nearer, but Shiva didn't want to move. She was lost in the beauty of the land and if not for the taint she felt all around, she could almost fool herself into believing the world was at peace. But the sound of a sword being drawn was to her right, followed by heavy footsteps walking behind her, toward her left. Her weapons were drawn as well, she tore her gaze from the lands across and glared at the genlock and hurlock pair coming for them. The creatures probably thought it was an even battle – two on two. Numbers didn't matter with the warden's prowess, even naturally – aside from the taint.

Loghain raised his shield, blocking the hurlock's mace from connecting with his chest, and swiftly beheaded the darkspawn. The genlock was delaying its end by backing away, trying to round Shiva and cut her down from behind. Two swords and a dagger pierced it before any damage was inflicted by it. Loghain planted his foot on the dead genlock's chest to push it back from their blades.

The general's arms hung by his sides, shield and sword grasped loosely. "What's that now? Thirty of them since lunch?"

Shiva nodded, estimating the same count as she knelt to search their pockets. Rumbling under her feet made her stand and take several hurried steps back. Loghain stood near the edge of the cliff over the darkspawn when the ground gave way below him. He dropped his weapons and staggered, both sword and shield fell with the corpses, the metal of weapons and armored bodies clanging as they hit rocks on the way down.

He was past the edge of the steady ground, he bent forward from the hip as he lost his footing. His chest colliding with the new edge of the cliff was the only thing that slowed him enough for him to cling to the edge and stop his fall – but he was dangling above a fall that meant sure death.

It happened too fast for Shiva to save him from falling at all, but she saw silverite gauntlets clinging to the edge of the ground. A few long strides was all it took to reach the edge while calling his name in a frantic plea for him to hang on. She fell to her knees near enough the edge to grab one of his arms with both her hands.

His face had no fear, just ferocious determination not to fall. His brows were knit together and he was gritting his teeth, as was she. In addition, her face was contorted with strain and worry. "Come on, you bastard, you can't leave me," she rambled. Loghain felt the dirt under the hand she didn't grasp crumbling, he quickly switched his hold to her arm.

He could feel her skidding forward, she was hardly strong enough to lift him and the armor – the longer they stayed like that, the more risk she had of falling with him. 'Let go,' was on his tongue, but he feared speaking was the force that would bring them both to their demise. His eyes said it all, he could tell when she read it. Her eyes widened with understanding, then narrowed the same time she set her mouth in a grim, determined line. She tried harder to pull him up.

There was no arguing with the resolve he saw, he got footing on a jutting root and pushed off of it. Shiva gasped as they worked to get him back to safety, sweat rolled down her face from exertion.

She got up to one knee, then pushed off the grounded foot to plant her other foot on the ground. Her body work against the gravity threatening to take her general away from her.

_Her_ general.

She kept babbling, 'come on' and 'almost there' as if her will pulled him to her as well. Each time his foot slipped off its grip on the side her heart leapt in her throat. He was high enough to step onto the ground even with her. With a shout, he lurched forward, no longer over the edge of the cliff but he was still off balance. Shiva tottered backward as he fell on top of her. They landed with a clang of colliding armor and an 'oof' from each of them getting the wind knocked out of them.

For several moments, they lay there breathing heavy. Loghain made no move to get off of her, his muscles protested at even the thought of movement. He felt heat rise to his cheeks when he saw her staring at him, realizing he was so near her face they were breathing into each other's mouths. Her hands were on his upper arms and as soon as she had the breath to do so, she smirked.

"If only this was what it looks like," she wheezed. Her leg was between his – it was fortunate he didn't get kicked on the way down, he realized. She rubbed her leg against his, supposedly as a joke.

A deep rumble sounded in his chest, building up as he chuckled harder. "Dream on, woman." He fought the urge to dip his head just a bit lower and brush his lips against hers. With a grunt, he moved off of her and stood, glaring at the cliff that nearly claimed him. She stood as well, still breathless.

"You're unarmed," she stated. "Here." She held her longsword, blade down, out for him to take.

He frowned, "And what of you, going to Redcliff to fight with that pig sticker?" He gestured to her dagger.

"Going to Redcliff unarmed while I have two weapons? I think not, take the damn sword. That's an order. Unless you plan to fight with the sword in your greaves," she sassed. Her scowl would have had the others bowing to her command before a hasty retreat.

Her tease when they were on the ground definitely affected him. His mind registered that her leg was between his, but he felt no pleasure from it, two sets of armor kept his skin from hers. His reaction was ridiculous! He could hardly take her order seriously since it was sandwiched between merciless flirting and a reference to his nether regions.

He harrumphed, but moved to obey. When he grasped the handle of the longsword, his fingers brushed hers. He allowed the contact to last longer than he should have. "Very well, Commander, though I comply simply because the 'other' sword would do minimal damage," he jested. Her scowl disappeared as her eyebrows shot up.

"I would gladly suffer upon it, nonetheless." The smirk returned. He covered his disbelief with a laugh. Surely she was joking? She must be, just as she did with the elven assassin. The words were empty, a tool for drawing men to follow her without questioning. The same way she bewitched him at Eamon's estate. He cleared his throat, changing the subject.

"Anyone else would have let me fall." He took the sheath she handed him, securing it around himself. "Thank you, warden. You've saved my life once again. In the future, I would prefer you not do so at the risk of your own life. Both of us were nearly lost just now, you hovered over the precipice nearly as much as I did for a moment there." She shook her head.

"I stand by my decision. You will not be lost today, and neither will I." He didn't question her further. He remembered the times Anora had the same look Shiva did then, there was no winning that argument. At least she took his advice about morale. He was surprised she took his advice at all, just as she said she would the night of his Joining. As usual, she spoke the truth.

The others approached. Wynne was putting several fresh poultices in her pack. It was time for them to continue.

* * *

Shiva heard an aggravated huff behind her. One distinctly Loghain-like. "I see you scowling, madam. Say what you must and get it over with."

"I despise you, Loghain Mac Tir." Wynne's voice was as cold as snow.

"What else is new? But I must wonder, what causes you to erupt with this completely unexpected information now?" His voice crested with sarcasm. Oghren watched the pair bicker with obvious amusement. Shiva was less subtle with her slightly quirked lips.

"I've been thinking since we passed the road to Ostagar. I watched good friends die there, my king died there. All because of you," she spat. "We head to battle the horde once more, I must wonder what schemes you have planned this time."

"I don't plan my schemes, I watch for the biggest fool I'm with and let things fall into place," he answered sarcastically.

"You jest but I heard some truth in there." Another huff was all she got as a response. When Shiva cast him a sympathetic look, he took longer strides to catch up with her.

* * *

It was the next day and they were near Redcliff. Wynne and Loghain had matching frowns. "Come on you two, kiss and make up," Shiva encouraged.

Wynne was the first to protest. "I wouldn't kiss him if my life depended on it." From Loghain's gesture toward the sky, he was clearly thankful for that.

"Now Wynne," Shiva scolded. "That's not very nice. He's not so bad for a Ferelden."

"For a Ferelden," Loghain repeated.

The pirate lightly pushed his arm for taking offence. "Don't get me wrong, I love Fereldens! You all are simple in taste, resilient and just a breath away from barbaric. It's sexy. There's nothing like being taken by a brute."

"Keep your wet dreams to yourself, young woman." He was feeling the heat rise to his face. 'Taken by a brute.' Maker's breath…

"Don't listen to him!" Oghren shouted. "Tell us more," he chortled lecherously.

"Fine," she addressed Loghain. "Let's hear one of yours."

"Absolutely not. But I will say this much, it involves the women I'm with being silent. I wish you would take the hint."

"Women!" she quoted. "Plural! My, you don't aim low."

Oghren whooped behind them. "Now that's something I can get on board with. A whole harem!"

"So Wynne," Shiva started. "Did you ever get it on with Irving? I know he's all rickety now, but like a hundred years ago, when the two of you were middle aged." She ducked under a swinging staff, more surprised at Loghain and Oghren's combined laughter than the attempted strike.

"No, there was never anything between me and Irving!"

"What about Gregoir? Of all the old guys I see, he's the most attractive. The really old guys I mean, if getting old was included, Loghain, you'd totally have him beat." He took it as more of an insult to his age than a compliment on his looks. He loudly 'hmphed' to show his resentment of that statement.

"No, Gregoir would never do such a thing. He is devoted to the Maker," Wynne insisted.

"Yeah right, I can practically hear him being dirty." She assumed a straighter posture, one hand near her crotch, the other on her hip, and imitated Gregoir's voice. "On your knees, you naughty mage!"

Wynne bit her cheek to keep from smiling. "I do not want to think of him in that manner, now hush child! This conversation is giving me a headache."

"Typical woman!" Oghren grumbled. "The very mention of getting busy and she's all 'I have a headache!'"

Shiva sighed after her fun was shot down. She looked around at her party, Shale and Loki were still quietly stomping behind them. Zevran and Leliana were arguing about proper ingredients for the strongest common poison, and Morrigan was trying to seduce Sten as if the qunari would stop and take her right there on the road. Her gaze landed on Loghain. "So… bandit, huh?"

"You recall I said that's a story for another time, yes? Now's not it." She tutted, thoroughly aggravated.

"Why do I get the feeling that if you get your way in this you'll never tell me?"

"Because that is exactly the case." He ignored her pout and hum of displeasure.

Their jovial banter ended abruptly when they saw a peasant running down the hill from Redcliff. "Oh, be you mercenaries or something? Darkspawn attack – Maker's breath, Teyrn Loghain!" The man skidded to a halt in front of them.

"Report, how many are there?" Loghain addressed the man while he held his attention. He swallowed before responding.

"There must be thirty or fourty. And a really big one! Big as the windmill, it seemed!"

"Ogres!" Morrigan exclaimed from the back of their group. "What fun."

The telltale hum of approaching darkspawn roused them from their conversation. Four genlock archers and twice as many blight wolves made their way towards them. The peasant ran the opposite direction, not hesitating even though his home was far behind and destroyed.

The warriors and rogues charged forth, ranged members – Leliana, Morrigan, and Wynne – stepped in range and lessened the numbers of charging blight wolves. Leliana shot one in the leg, sending it rolling down the hill only to meet a headshot when it stilled. Morrigan set one aflame, its eyes blinded by the heat that flashed off its snout.

Blades whirled and slashed at the wolves, Loki snapped at necks and jumped back to avoid the teeth that snapped back at him. Arrows flew overhead back and forth as the darkspawn archers were aimed at the ranged companions. When they were vanquished, the wardens ran forward, not waiting to see if there was damage to those behind them.

Redcliff's population only slightly grew since the refugees at Lothering traveled west and settled there. Had they not been training, they wouldn't have been able to fight off the darkspawn. The darkspawn were just barely outmatched as it was. Some thirty Redcliff soldiers remained and they battled with everything in them, unwilling to lose their home to the monsters once again.

They held the darkspawn on the ground, but Shiva saw the gate to the castle had been smashed. She was about to run to it, but a colossal figure loomed to her right by the windmill. The figure was purple like a bloated corpse. Horns stretched high above its head and teeth as long as fingers protruded from a drooling maw. The amount of taint coming from the ogre was painful, but she ran toward it alongside Sten and Oghren. She forgot Loghain had her longsword and all she had left was her dagger, so she slowed to let the warriors lead the first assault. Greatsword and axe flew as arrows pierced its large chest, not going deep enough through tough skin to do damage anywhere near what could be considered moderate. The ogre swung its arms around, trying to hit the warriors on either side. Oghren's stature allowed him to easily duck, but Sten was too slow and was knocked back into the stone wall of the windmill.

The qunari exhaled a long groan, sinking to one knee as he waited for his vision to stop swimming from the throbbing in his head. The world around him shook with a heartbeat rhythm. Oghren circled around the front of the ogre, he lifted the battleaxe high when the arm swung once more to repeat the damage done to Sten. The dwarf avoided the fate by embedding the axe in the back of the ogre's hand. On the other side, Shiva grabbed hold of the thick leather belt it wore, arm stretched over her head to reach it, and climbed up the beast. She used the crook of its arm as a step to help herself clamber over its shoulder and stare the beast in the eye from above. With a battle cry, she raised her dagger and plunged it into one of the large eyes staring at her. She grabbed a horn and held on as she jumped over its head to hang as the ogres hand flew to its face. The battleaxe was still embedded, she climbed back over using the horns and removed the large axe for her to wield.

Her feet were planted at the juncture between horns and head, she swung the axe down so the edge cut the skin and the plates of its skull with a wet crunch between her feet. The ogre toppled forward, lifeless. Shiva hopped off before it hit the ground and rolled to reduce the impact of her landing. Oghren and Shiva retrieved their weapons from the ogre's head.

They left the village to the soldiers. Most of the darkspawn were defeated, remainders were surrounded by four or five soldiers. The path to the castle had tracks where darkspawn marched. When they arrived, the courtyard was gory from a battle that still raged on. Eamon, Teagan, the knight Ser Perth, and a dozen other guards fought the invading darkspawn. Riordan was among them, having arrived a day earlier. Their entrance was not noticed, so Leliana and the mages took the front line to announce their arrival. Each shot several darkspawn before a larger portion of those left were ready to charge at them, presuming them too strong a threat to continue ignoring. Shiva, Oghren, and Zevran ran to engage those to the left near the Arl, whose shield arm was weak from seemingly endless battle. Shiva attacked the darkspawn that struck the Arl's defense, driving her dagger deep in its throat. She withdrew it, turning to engage a genlock to her right. It was caught between herself and Teagan. When the genlock struck, she parried, and Teagan ran him through – the darkspawn arched away from the blade as it stuck out from its chest.

Hurlock archers took out the guards at the top of the castle steps and shot from their high vantage point. One shot far, the arrow landed deep in Morrigan's thigh. She growled like a feral cat. "Cross me and you shall pay!" While removing the arrow from her thigh and casting her healing spell, she put her staff away. She exploded into a puff of smoke and emerged as a giant spider - easier to scurry toward the darkspawn that shot her with unbelievable speed. Her weight knocked it down when she reached it, she turned to the other archers, raring up on her hind legs to shoot web at them. She was free to maul the darkspawn under her with fangs a hand's length. The darkspawn beside her were unable to release themselves before she coated them with poisonous saliva. She bit the second darkspawn on the arm. Its head lolled so it could screech in agony toward the heavens when an arrow lanced its throat. The final darkspawn had a large portion of its head taken off with her bite.

With that, Redcliff was clear of darkspawn. The only taint was from Loghain, Shiva, and Riordan. Everyone sheathed their weapons and walked near the doors. The guards weren't anxious to climb the steps after seeing Morrigan transform into a spider and back. She stared at them with obvious pleasure when she saw their fear. Arl Eamon was the first to open the great doors to the main hall.

The guards took post around the room. The Arl, Teagan, Riordan, Shiva, and Loghain gathered near the fireplace where the Arlessa and abomination once stood when they entered several months before.

Riordan spoke first. "It would seem the horde is not approaching Redcliff as we thought. That was a sizeable force that branched off. They are heading for Denerim."

Loghain eyed the senior warden suspiciously. "Are you sure this time?"

"Yes, I was able to listen in. There is another matter," Riordan paused, pacing along the step and toward the furnace behind him. "The archdemon has shown itself. It is leading the horde as they march to the capital."

Arl Eamon sighed. "Then with your order, Warden-Commander, we gather all the armies to march tomorrow."

"Consider it ordered," was Shiva's grim reply. Her stomach was practically flipping inside her.

Eamon told the knight to see to the arrangements. "You and those traveling with you will stay in our guest quarters tonight. You have helped clear my village and should be rewarded with what little hospitality I can offer presently."

"Thank you, your Grace." Shiva gave a slight bow. Their informal meeting ended. Shiva backed away feeling in shock. From Loghain's expression, he felt no better than she. Everyone scattered around the hall and adjoining corridor that had the stairway to the guest rooms. Shiva slowly headed toward them when she saw familiar pair of dwarves that stood in the far corner by the Arl's study. The older one recognized her.

"Ah! Warden, I remember how you saved me an' my boy from them creatures, I do. I didn't introduce myself, did I? My name is Bodahn Feddic, this here is my boy Sandal. We're traveling merchants, you see, and we nearly got overtaken by that army of monsters out there! I'd be happy to give you a sizable discount for clearing the darkspawn around us twice now."

"I wonder if you have any decent weapons," she replied.

"But of course, right this way, just step into the vault here. The good arl let us use it to store our wares since everything was cleared out to supply the village. Peruse to your hearts content, is there anything in particular you're looking for?" Bodahn was cheery and polite, as if nothing was going on outside. Sandal was gazing around quiet and wide-eyed.

"Sword and shield."

"Right this way, my lady. Oh, I'm glad you mentioned shield because I have one you wouldn't believe." He headed toward one lying on a long table. The shield was dragonbone and had a white badge in the center. Two Mabari were standing on hind legs on either side. "Can you imagine this one once belonged to King Maric?"

"You jest, surely." Normally it would have been said with much more charisma, but she was emotionally drained, uttered her disbelief stoically.

"I certainly don't!" Shiva drew her mouth to the side as she thought.

He didn't have any swords worth a single copper, but a waraxe caught her by surprise. It, like the shield, was dragonbone so she purchased them both. She found Loghain near where she saw him last for the meeting. His arms were crossed and he was staring at the floor by his feet. She considered sliding the shield along the floor and into his view, but she wasn't in the mood to be playful. Its supposed connection to Maric was likely a bullshit sale technique as well. Either way, it was a fine shield.

She cleared her throat to get his attention. He glanced in her direction, leaning his head toward where she stood for acknowledgement. "Here, you need a shield." She handed it to him without ceremony.

His arms immediately uncrossed, but he was slow to grasp it on either side, like he was holding a delicate picture. "This was Maric's. I'm sure of it."

She hmm'ed. "That's what the merchant said. I thought he was full of it."

"Why? Did he resemble Andraste?" he joked. She smiled at that. "This is more than I could have asked for. Thank you." Shiva nodded.

"Keep the sword as well, I found something to replace it."

"Armed with a sword and shield from the two people in the world I would follow to the Fade if only one of you would ask it of me," he mused. His smile faltered when he saw her frown.

"Hush, cruel villain, before you make me cry again." He realized she did look like she wanted to cry. He slung the shield over his shoulder and put an arm on hers as he usually did only do Anora.

"I don't think I could bear seeing that." He realized the journey to Denerim very well could be his last with her. He felt an unbelievable pang of sadness as he thought it.

Shiva took as deep a breath as she could, forcing herself to cheer up enough to remain composed. "You didn't seem phased last time." Her smirk was half-hearted. She laid her gauntlet over his on her arm before turning away.

* * *

She stood outside the door to her chambers, thumbing the eye of the axe as it hung by her hip. When she opened the door, she saw a slim figure by the fire.

"Do not be alarmed. Tis only I." Morrigan didn't turn to face her.

"Something on your mind?" Shiva left the door open. She wasn't in the mood for visitors, but Morrigan's company would force her to stay strong. Perhaps that was what she needed.

"I know what happens when the Archdemon dies." The witch turned and approached her. "A warden must be sacrificed and that sacrifice could be you. I have come to tell you this need not be the case. I have a way out, you see. A loop in your hole." Morrigan paused to gauge Shiva's reaction.

"Do speak it then." Shiva was unreadable.

"It is a ritual, some call it Old Magick. What must be done is this. You convince Loghain to lay with me tonight. From our joining a child will be conceived. The child will bear the taint and when the Archdemon is slain, its essence will seek the child like a beacon." A moment of silence passed. Shiva peered into the witch's eyes skeptically before bursting into laughter. Morrigan frowned and straightened her arms to her sides instead of leaving them clasped as they were.

"If you want to bed the man, you don't need my permission. Just give him a drink! Show him your breasts!" Shiva was laughing incredulously, partly to hide her jealousy that the witch was free to make a move on the man she wanted herself.

"He would never go for that," the witch snapped. "It is not a simple matter of desire, I have made it clear I would rather lie with the qunari. I need to complete the ritual with a recently tainted Grey Warden. That is simply what the situation calls for, no matter what my thoughts are on the matter. If Alistair remained here, I would have to lie with him instead – though it would pain me to do so."

"You're serious, aren't you?" Shiva was feeling anger well up inside her.

"I am. I wish for you to live, and for the child."

"Tell me about the child." Shiva jerked her head toward the bed so they could sit on it side by side and discuss.

"It would be tainted as the father and would absorb the soul of the Old God. The soul would return to its original, uncorrupted state. That is what I wish for. In exchange, I would be free to raise the child as I see fit. Loghain would never meet it for I would leave right when the battle is done and you must not follow me. Ever."

Shiva gripped the edge of the bed. Her head was hanging as she glared at the floor, processing everything the witch was saying to her.

"Is it even guaranteed that we would live?"

"It prevents one of you from being killed by taking in the soul of the Archdemon, yes. The child is unharmed in the process whereas you would perish." Morrigan spoke surely, even tried to comfort her with the answer, it seemed.

"And would the child not be susceptible to such corruption in the future?"

"It would be immune, as you are," she answered. Shiva sighed.

"I still don't see why you came to me with this. I have no seed for you." Morrigan chuckled despite slight repulsion.

"Loghain is not obligated to listen to me, but he is obligated to listen to you. He is a soldier and he will follow your order if you decide to command him in this. He must be made aware if he does not agree, your life is forfeit. I have a feeling such a thing would affect him greatly, even though he is willing to give his own life to end the Blight." Morrigan gave her a knowing smile concerning his feelings that it seemed Shiva did not know.

"Okay."

"Good. Do go tell him and I urge you to be convincing." Shiva got up and left the room, wondering if the witch was playing a cruel joke on her, or even trying to arrange a threesome. She wouldn't be opposed to it, but the stone in her gut told her Morrigan was completely serious.

Shiva passed the room Loghain was given.

_Drink first, damn it. Morrigan's wanting booty can wait. _

When she got near the stairs, Loghain walked up them. She could feel the blood drain from her face and could not meet his eyes.

"Good night, Shiva."

"Good night." She practically ran down the steps when he passed her.

* * *

She had more than a flask worth of ale in her belly. No more stalling. She was standing by Loghain's room, thinking way harder than she needed to, considering her thoughts were a pure weight on her mind and not anything useful at all. Only dread. Her body got tired of waiting for her mind and knocked on its own accord. It took a moment for Loghain to answer. When he opened the door, he let go of the hem of his tunic and the other side of it was raised, exposing the skin of his hip as if he had just put it on. She licked her lips at the thought of running her tongue on the bit of exposed flesh between his tunic and trousers. But no, that's for Morrigan to do tonight, she thought bitterly. She made a face to match her thoughts.

"Do you wish to talk?" he asked. She nodded. He moved from the doorway to let her in, closing it most of the way when she entered. Gathering courage from out of nowhere she whirled to face him.

"There is something rather unorthodox that has come up. There is a chance all wardens can survive the Blight, but it requires a very specific sacrifice."

"Virgin's blood?" he drawled sarcastically.

"Quite the opposite. Warden semen." She bit her lip when she realized she moved things a bit too fast. Her brows furrowed with worry. She had never seen him with his mouth hanging open that way. Her cheeks had to be a glowing shade of pink. "Err, I mean I'm asking you to sleep with Morrigan." Maker, that drink was an awful idea.

"Ah." He said nothing further for a moment, choosing instead to gaze at his feet. "I assume this is not simply for your amusement. There's more to this, there must be."

"My favorite general, if this was for my amusement I'd be asking for you to lie with me and not some other lucky harpy," she smirked. "In all seriousness, Loghain, Morrigan knows a ritual. It will allow her to conceive a warden's child, so long as the warden was recently tainted. The soul of the Archdemon would kill us, but if a tainted child at that stage is near the soul will go to the child."

He jerked his head as if trying to rid his tongue of a bad taste. "This is ridiculous, why are you even considering such a thing? If Riordan fails just let me take that final blow."

She felt like she got a sharp punch in the throat when he so easily discarded the idea. "Damn it, Loghain, I don't want you to die! Even if we do decide that, I can't guarantee that in the heat of battle the wrong person doesn't end up giving the killing blow. I know this would be the end of the sentence you were assigned at the Landsmeet, but Ferelden will not be completely at peace when the archdemon dies. We will need everyone strong to rebuild. More than that, with the Blight over and having ravaged Ferelden, would we not be vulnerable? If you truly foresee a threat from Orlais, would that not be the time to invade?" This seemed to help make up his mind, but she decided to back up. "I respect you, Loghain, that should go without saying. Therefore I cannot command you to do this. If you would prefer death for some reason I will abide by your decision. Before you do make that choice, consider those who would be forced to live without you." She hoped that was vague enough so he thought she meant Anora. The way her voice was on the verge of cracking probably worked against that ambiguity.

He released a heavy sigh. "Alright. I'll do… as you ask. Where is she?"

"In my quarters. Come." He followed when he led her across the hall. Morrigan was standing by the fire once more.

"That took ages," she complained.

"I needed a damn drink, woman. Get over it," Shiva groused.

"_You_ needed a drink?" Loghain crossed his arms, shaking his head at her.

"Oh, shut up. You're about to get laid."

"Why does that sound so ominous?" He truly did look worried.

Morrigan giggled and crossed toward the door, taking Loghain by the arm as she passed him. "Oh come now. You will enjoy it long before we are done, I assure you."

Shiva grit her teeth as her insides clamped together, jealousy hit her like a cold wind. She definitely didn't want to hear that. Before being dragged away, Loghain thought he noticed an envious scowl mar Shiva's beautiful face.

* * *

Loghain sat on the edge of the bed with a hand cradling his head. He was still while the witch chanted, burned foul smelling herbs and mixed a potion for her to drink, making her body more susceptible for his seed.

He couldn't believe he was there. The only thing that kept him from abandoning this ridiculous scheme was the reminder that he was doing it for Ferelden. That, and he had predicted that he would be unable to refuse any sexual offers done by his beautiful fellow warden - though this was far from what he expected. But she wanted him to live. That much comforted him. He had a chance of surviving, as did she. He could live to see his daughter for perhaps a few more years.

"Are you ready?" When he raised his head, he saw she was already naked before him. She, too, was beautiful. But that was negated by her dark magic and her cold, impudent ways. He stood, shedding himself of the rest of his clothing, then sat on the bed once more. Scooting back as she watched, her hungry harpy eyes scanned him all over and pausing at his manhood with each pass. He leaned against the headboard as she still stared.

"Well?" His tone was irate. The witch crawled on the bed toward him. Loghain watched as her breasts swayed with each motion, willing himself to harden. Maker knows, he hadn't had a problem with it lately. Quite the opposite.

He didn't know at what point he stopped paying attention to her, but she was suddenly near him, head above his knees and crawling further still. Reflexively, he jumped. That caused her smile to only widen and his irritation to increase. Her hands trailed up his sides as she moved to straddle him. Her sex moved against his length to encourage him to harden. The witch was already wet.

He slowly moved his hands to her hips, feeling her skin. Their hands trailed up and down their bodies, hers pausing by his stomach to cast a spell. Warmth and a strong tingle shot up and down his shaft caused him to grow erect quickly. The spell stopped, it was up to him to maintain it.

His hands moved to cup each breast, massaging them in slow circles. He felt her position his cock by her entrance and watched her impale herself on him. A woman's expression when she first felt him inside was the most beautiful sight him, but he watched her with less interest than usual. It was overwhelming how badly he still didn't want to be there with her.

The image of his wife did little as well. Her memory was too faded, he realized with a pang of stale sorrow. He wondered how Shiva looked, already having noticed she was slightly shorter than the woman riding him, her breasts and rear were larger. He started rocking his hips slowly to meet her movements.

Oh, if only Shiva could have been with him herself. At first he thought that was what she meant before she mentioned the witch. He had never felt such acute disappointment when she explained the situation to him. If he had just taken her, made her bribe him into the ritual with a tumble right then and there. Sometimes he got the impression she was tempted to try him, even if only once. He'd gladly take it. A chance to see that tattoo she spoke of. Trace it with his tongue, dip his tongue below and between her thighs.

Morrigan wondered what he was thinking when he licked his lips, rocking into her harder. He didn't realize her hands were on her hips, bringing her down onto him with more force as he imagined the voluptuous pirate. She was moaning over the slap of their skin meeting, Loghain pressed his lips to her collarbone. One hand moved to grab her rear, grasping the flesh there to guide her to bounce just the way he liked it.

Course black brows creased when he realized Shiva was probably with Leliana now. An affair with an Orlesian, of all things. What was it she said the day before? 'I love Fereldens. You all are simple in taste, resilient and just a breath away from barbaric. It's sexy. There is nothing like being taken by a brute.' He almost shuddered from how she had looked at him then. A snack to be devoured. Yet with some of her words, she acted as though lovemaking was her preferred way to serve a man. All that fire was being wasted on a woman down the hall.

Loghain imagined the two of them writhing in bed together, only Shiva turned away from the bard to embrace him. The Orlesian disappeared from his mind completely as Loghain sunk into her with one smooth thrust. He'd give her a brute of a lover.

With a grunt, he leaned forward, half carrying, half pushing the witch on her back, and settled over her. He started thrusting with more force than he usually used, and the response was primal. She who he had shut out of his mind was clawing at his back, gasping between moans. He had his way with her, not slowing as she reached her climax, only imagining the lustful pirate begging him for more. He was finally lost in the pleasure and his fantasies enough to relish the wet heat that engulfed his cock. When a gust of her breath hit the sensitive skin below his jaw, he released inside her. He gave a few final thrusts and stilled deep inside. After minutes of heavy breathing, she turned to speak in his ear.

"I've heard tales of Grey Warden stamina..." Morrigan was ready to compliment him - a rarity for her.

"I was enjoying myself, witch. Your speaking ended that." Loghain bit his tongue to stop himself from continuing his rant. She gasped when he quickly withdrew, grabbing a rag next to the bedside table to wipe her juice off his cock. He threw it on the bed to replace his absence there. She picked it up, running it between her fingers under her nose as he dressed himself and left. Behind him, the door slammed and he heard a girlish giggle.


	28. Archie

Borrowed Time, Ch 28 – Archie

AN: I rush rush rushed to this point (It's a first fic, be merciful) and yes, it will skip some since its just battle battle battle. Hopefully the wee twist I put in here will be a welcome one.

* * *

After a full day on horseback they were all ready to stop and make camp. There were few enough soldiers left after the battle in Redcliff for everyone to be able to ride a mount, but Shiva and her companions still paired up. Shiva and Leliana rode together, much to Shiva's relief because she would likely fall off at such speed. Oghren leered at them, watching their bodies jounce off the saddle, before he remembered his predicament and called to Loghain behind him.

"If I feel your pole up my arse I'm gonna chop that scowl off your face with my axe!"

"I assure you, you won't ever feel such a thing from me, dwarf." It was bad enough Loghain's nose hovered right above Oghren. Even his armor was absorbing that smell.

Zevran chuckled beside them. "Get a room, you two! That is a joining that I never want to see." Wynne laughed over the elf's shoulder at Loghain's obvious discomfort.

Sten and Morrigan minded their own business. Morrigan was grinning smugly, purposely tilting her rear towards the qunari's groin. The witch periodically cast a spell so Shale would be able to run faster and keep up. Loki was dashing beside the golem.

They stopped to make camp when the sun disappeared behind the Frostbacks. Morrigan was forced to set up her tent closer to everyone else than usual since Teagan and the Redcliff soldiers took the far corner of the encampment. She was meters behind Shiva's tent, the pirate sat next to her as she read the grimoire. She didn't turn into a spider psycho when Shiva sat on the end of her bedroll, which was staggering.

"So how was he?" Morrigan's eyes still scanned the mystical runes on the page, but the corner of her mouth rose. The witch set the journal on her lap, took a deep breath as she looked for eavesdroppers.

"At first, he was disinterested. It was rather annoying, once men experience the spell that enhances the feeling in their phallus, they usually have no further reservations but your general is stubborn." Shiva smirked, wondering what kind of nutty man turned his nose up at pleasure with such a beautiful woman. "But then, he changed. He became quite forceful when the mood overtook him. It was quite barbaric."

"I _hate_ you so much," Shiva laughed. Morrigan giggled as well when the pirate left. When she returned to her tent, Wynne was standing near it, wearily waving Zevran away as he talked about her breasts. Shiva had to take a good look at the old mage, her skin was pale and just a bit green. "Zevran, shoo!"

He started at her interruption. "Alright, alright! I was just giving her a compliment." He sulked back to his own tent.

"Wynne, are you alright? I've never seen you look so…"

"Old?" Her remark wasn't as venomous as usual, there must be something really wrong.

"No, sickly. Is it the traveling?" Wynne didn't expect to see Shiva so worried about her.

"No, dear. It's nothing like that. I know what it is. Nothing to concern yourself with." That was probably the first time Wynne gave her a friendly smile.

"Nonsense, talk to me."

"In the Circle tower, I took a hit from one of the demons. I fell. After everything went black, I felt life return to me. I was rejuvenated. It was not one of the mages, they all ran while I fought the demons. Since then, I have felt," she trailed off, trying to find the right words. "All my life I have been able to sense spirits in the Fade – benevolent spirits. One of them sustains me, but the spirit did not expect it to be so difficult. Its energy wanes, that is why I feel so weak sometimes." Shiva's jaw dropped when she heard the mage had died.

"And I thought my second chance at life was lucky," she mused. "Well what are you doing still standing here, woman? Go rest!"

"It's my watch."

"Don't be foolish. I'll take watch." Wynne thanked her, shuffling slowly to her own tent.

* * *

The next morning, smoke billowed high into the clouds before the capital was even in sight. The army raced on with more speed with Shiva, Riordan, and Teagan in the lead. They reached the city gates mid-afternoon. The Dalish were already there, standing within the city with their bows drawn, shooting at the darkspawn that made it inside. When Shiva and the Redcliff army rode in, they drew their swords and hacked at the darkspawn from horseback. Few of the creatures were able to dodge and slash the horses' chests and legs, causing both steed and rider to fall. Shiva pulled the reigns sharply to the right, making the horse spiral around in a wide arc to climb the stairs along the wall beside the gate, giving Leliana a high vantage point to shoot from. Shiva dismounted, running back down the stairs with dagger and axe in hand to engage the darkspawn. Zevran and Wynne still rode as a pair, he did the same on the opposite side so the mage could cut through the darkspawn with her magic. Morrigan stood on the ground amidst the elven archers, shooting cones of fire and ice to all darkspawn that came near.

It was impossible to keep track of her men while Shiva battled. The area was large and open, but bodies were everywhere with more piling up. The darkspawn were unable to feel the wardens with so much taint around them, they simply slashed at anyone with smooth skin, wading through the soldiers to destroy those who threatened the archdemon as it sang its commands.

Shiva faltered when she heard the song, just like in her dreams. She caught sight of a stilled, silverite form that was enraptured by the same thing she was. She made her way to him, nearer the gates to the market, hoping she could find some foundation in their bond that she took comfort in when she woke to find Alistair near her when she had a nightmare in camp. Loghain was stirred from his hypnotic state when he felt the familiar warmth, his haunted gaze fell on her and slowly faded away. Riordan was able to focus on their position through the bond, he ran to them.

"We need to get to the top of Fort Drakon!" He had to shout over the screams of battle around them.

Loghain understood. "You mean to draw the archdemon's attention."

Riordan nodded. "Gather those you wish to travel with you. I would suggest no more than two or three." Loghain looked to Shiva to find those suitable to come with them. She ran into the thick of battle while Riordan went ahead to the market district. Loghain stood guard, killing any and all darkspawn that neared.

Shiva returned to him with Morrigan, Oghren, and Shale. Without stopping, they went to the market district after Riordan, Loghain fell into line with them. Sten had been informed he was to lead those who remained by to defend the city gates. He could be trusted in that, at least.

* * *

Six ogres – _six_ ogres met them in the market district. People were being chased down through the streets, she would never be able to save any with the half dozen beasts charging toward her. She took the horn Teagan gave her from around her neck, eight sharp blasts to call upon the dwarves. The reinforcements came swiftly, but it seemed like an eternity. Finally each ogre fell, wounds from four to five dwarves and at least one of Shiva's own bled profusely with the last pump's of the ogres heart.

They left the last two ogres to the dwarves that were busy chopping them down like trees. In the center of the market, were logs that used to be stalls lay in a mess, a darkspawn general taunted the wardens, beckoning them forward into his throng of minions. Shiva smirked, cocking her head at her general for him to show the darkspawn bastard that the warden general was far superior. Loghain charged, less glee in the matter, but just as much determination. The darkspawn general raised his sword high over head and it bounced off of Maric's shield instead of cleaving Loghain's head.

Shiva and the others held the surrounding darkspawn off while Loghain fought the powerful foe. Each parried the other's strikes when their blades didn't meet shields. A dagger flew in, sinking into the darkspawn's neck. It was off guard long enough for Loghain to decapitate. The dagger fell to the ground, Loghain kicked it up with his boot toward Shiva to catch. They left the market district to the dwarves to defend.

* * *

They reached the grounds of the palace, bloodied all over with little if any being their own. Shrieks were attacking the palace's guards that defended the doors. Shiva recognized Loghain's men and Ser Cauthrien as she fought by Alistair's side. He must have felt her through their bond, when he knocked a genlock back, he paused to gaze her direction. With his inattention, the genlock bounded forward, ready to strike again. Morrigan set the creature on fire, it fell screaming at Alistair's feet like a prize from his pet.

They returned to battle, not slowing a breath until the palace grounds were clear of all taint that didn't belong to the Grey Wardens. Alistair sheathed his sword and slung his shield over his shoulder. "Riordan passed this way nearly an hour ago," he reported. "Your arrival finally turned the tide. He headed for Fort Drakon."

"That's where we're going," Shiva answered.

"Where's Anora?" Loghain didn't put it past the whelp to kick her out a window as a sacrifice to the darkspawn.

"In the tower, she's fine. Ten guards are with her."

"That's all?" Loghain snapped. Alistair ignored him, turning to Shiva.

"You know, I've thought a lot about what happened. We can agree to disagree, but I need to do this – my final fight as a warden. Duncan would have pushed me to do it above the duty of my birthright. If I fall, Ferelden will still have a strong leader. I shouldn't sit out of this fight with the archdemon." Shiva raised a brow.

"Of course, come along then." The archdemon roared overhead. Everyone looked up to see something fall from high above. Shiva hoped it was one of the bastard's feet but she realized it was shaped like a person. Whoever it was fell on the other side of the palace grounds. They would likely pass the body on their way to the fort. Shiva ran ahead, counting on them to follow. She heard Alistair command Ser Cauthrien to hold ground, then didn't feel the warmth from his taint lessen.

Shiva could see the battle continue toward their road out, she was about to run forward when Loghain called her, running further into the garden. She caught up to him, heart sinking when she saw what caught his attention. Riordan had fallen in the fountain, water swirled red around him. Alistair caught up to them, sighing when he saw their fallen comrade. Shiva shook her head, turning to continue to the fort.

* * *

The large doors slammed shut when they made it inside. They leaned against the wood for breath. Shale stomped ahead to see if more were around.

Oghren was gulping air, staring at Alistair. "You that warden?"

"Uhh, yes?"

"Somehow I imagined you manlier. More lines on that baby face and glowing eyes, at the very least."

"Well... Sorry to disappoint?" He didn't know what to make of the dwarf.

"You should be."

Shiva smirked, realizing she never properly introduced the two. There would be time for it later though, she felt like she was being gluttonous stopping for a break in the middle of the battle. She followed the sound of stone squishing darkspawn.

They made it to the top floor, Shale stayed at the door to make sure no darkspawn came through. As they continued, Alistair huffed in a breathless chuckle. "Kinda reminds me of Ishal. Fighting alongside you, I mean. It's so familiar." He didn't show distaste over the memory, so Shiva smiled slightly as they ran through the halls. With shock, she recalled her first nightmare at camp, this was where she was running, alone and frightened.

But she didn't feel afraid. She had Alistair and Loghain beside her, as well as Oghren and Morrigan. They followed her this far, if she met her end, it would not be alone and it didn't guarantee complete failure.

She grasped the handle to the door leading to the rooftop, a jolt of excitement shot up her arm when she opened the door only to be drowned when she emerged, seeing the massive black dragon. It breathed purple flame, tucking an injured wing away from where they stood. Morrigan waved her hands to cast a blizzard spell. Shards of ice whipped across the archdemon's snout and eyes, blinding it while the warriors and rogue each rounded to attack a limb.

When the spell cleared, Morrigan tried to keep it blinded by shooting flame in its eyes. The massive demon shook its head, swatting at the attackers near its legs. Shiva ran back to avoid its swipe, grabbing her horn and calling for any dwarves that remained. She whistled to Alistair as he ran from under a flapping wing. "Alis! The ballistae!" She pointed at the one nearest him – both that were on the roof should be able to hit the darkspawn leader in the middle. At Shiva's signal, both shot. The bolts hit either shoulder, causing it to roar and attempt to fly away. It was off the ground, circling low above them. Shiva turned the ballista, aiming ahead so it would fly into the shot. She triggered the shot, bolts sinking into the darkspawn dragon's belly. It crashed back on the rooftop, shrieking. Darkspawn ran through the doors, dwarves came in from the one they entered. The two forces clashed in the middle as Shiva ran to attack the archdemon with the warriors that already had it engaged.

The archdemon jerked its head away from each strike from the wardens that stood by each eye. Both warriors blocked the collision with the shields of their remembered leaders. The archdemon roared, it's head stayed low to the ground where both warriors slashed at its temples and at the soft spot behind its jaw. When the archdemon would open its mouth to snarl again, the warden warriors on either side would see each other, their dislike for one another channeled into their swords as they slashed with more fury at the terror between them.

Shiva used her axe and dagger to climb up its hind leg, dodging kicks that protested at the puncture wounds the left in her wake. Once on top, she grabbed one of the spiny protrusions along the dragon's backbone, calling for Oghren's attention as he hacked at a wing, preventing it from taking flight. Two crossed, lazy eyes rose to her call as she pointed to the great sword that lay embedded in a nearby darkspawn. The dwarf seized it, pulling it out with a wet squelch and tossing it blade down to his commander. She grabbed the sword in both hands, having sheathed her weapons, and turned the opposite way to call to Morrigan. She held the blade high for the witch to bathe in fire. The flames licked the sword, metal glowing orange like a brand.

Shiva stabbed downward, blade sinking through melted scales and she blinked at the sizzling flesh below her shaking her head to clear her vision as she wrenched the blade forward like a lever, angling it to slice along the archdemon's spine as she ran to its head. Dark red blood poured from the split skin, leaving a river of blood trailing behind her. When she neared its skull, she slowed her run, angling the sword forward to put all her momentum into the blade as it sunk under the plate of its skull and emerged from the roof of its mouth. The archdemon's head jerked upwards, throwing Shiva off just before a beam of light shot up from the killing blow, exploding outward into an aura of blinding light.

Morrigan raised a ward to shield herself from most of the force. Her belted skirt billowed around her legs. Loghain, Alistair, and Oghren were knocked back, skidding until each neared the edge of the rooftop. The scream of the archdemon died down when it's soul departed. The two male wardens were alive, but Shiva had been thrown high after her strike and her body was nowhere to be found. Everyone scoured the area, Loghain even neared the edge and looked over for her body below, with a terrible feeling in his stomach. It didn't lessen when he heard Alistair behind him.

"Oh no..." He breathed with much despair. "No no no..." Loghain whirled, Alistair stood yards behind him, looking high on the wall. He ran beside the future king, turning his gaze to see Shiva impaled on what was once a protrusion the shape of a mabari's head, but had been broken and left in a long spike emerging from the stone. It pinned between her shoulder and left breast. Her head lolled to the right where the rest of her weight sagged, blood trickled from the corner of her mouth and ran over her stomach from the wound. Her eyes were shut and everyone was still. Even Oghren was sobered, their victory unregistered.

Wings flapped over their heads, a great bird hovered over Shiva, grabbing her shoulders with its large talons and slowly bringing her forward off the stone spike. She left a red trail where her body once hung, the men below her could hear the wet slide. The bird freed her and slowly brought her down. Loghain ran forward to help ease Shiva to the ground. Morrigan let her go and returned to her form, landing from flight on her feet.

Alistair hovered over her body, taking ragged gasps.

"Please don't be dead..." Morrigan moved past him, lyrium potion in hand and a glow in the other for her healing spell. Loghain couldn't tell if she breathed or not, but Morrigan wouldn't be healing her if she was already gone.

Morrigan focused on her spell, unused to having to use it so heavily. She sipped on a healing potion. "Tis no use until this armor comes off." Loghain and Morrigan pulled on the straps at either side, gingerly removing the breastplate. The gambeson was torn enough to reveal her wound, Morrigan returned to work on it.

The four of them jumped when Shiva's eyes snapped open and she gasped. She was looking around wildly while she tried to get her bearings.

"Calm down Shiva, the battle is won. You have slain the archdemon."

Shiva's right hand flew to her wound, forming a cage over it like she held a trapped bird. "Did that son of a bitch lizard do this to me?" There was a feral glint in here eye that made Loghain worry.

"It did, in a way."

"I'll kill the motherfucker again!" Her mind was beginning to register the pain. She growled through her teeth, Alistair hadn't heard such a thing since the werewolves in the Brecilian Forest. She gasped between growls that were escalating into furious shouts of pain. He cringed when he heard the sound of her grinding teeth. Morrigan sat on her heels.

"She is in shock."

A thought struck Loghain, he was angered by not thinking of it sooner. "Give me the horn, I'll call the mages. With luck, a decent healer will be among them." Morrigan took it from beside her breastplate. Three long, mournful blows sounded. Shiva jumped at the horn.

"Where is the song? I can't hear it. Where the fuck is the song?"

"It's gone," Loghain answered. "You ended the Blight. As soon as a healer comes your mind will be clear." She shook her head at him, trying to sit up but falling back. Her heart started pumping more blood out of the wound and she kept hitting her head on the rooftop. The mages ran through the door, Alistair called to them for a healer. A red haired mage ran forward, telling everyone to step back.

The mage was bent over her for several minutes. Loghain was unsettled by how still she was. He felt some relief when she bent her knee to flatten the bottom of her foot on the ground. He stared at the blood that was on his armor, realizing he held the war horn tightly.

"She's a tough little moss licker. She'll be fine." Oghren's expression didn't reflect his sure tone.

Loghain and Alistair breathed a sigh of relief when Shiva got to her feet. She slowly rolled her shoulder, wincing at the soreness. Shiva stared at the archdemon dumbly, circling it and squatting to peer into its open mouth. From where Loghain stood, he could see the tip of the blade sticking from the inside of its mouth, like a wide, misplaced tooth.

Shiva stood and walked to Morrigan. The witch stood alone at the edge of the roof, looking like she was ready to jump.

* * *

Shiva could see the wind blowing locks of hair Morrigan kept loose. She wondered idly if their hair even grew the past year, it was always pulled back. Morrigan turned to face her. "Tis fortunate you survived, no? I am glad to see you well. It will bring me comfort to know another strong woman still stands once I leave."

"And you thought you were the only one."

"We are a rare breed, I see the necessity of saying goodbye but I am surprised that I do not wish to."

"Yet you will?"

"I must. I have done what I set out to do. Our paths must diverge." Morrigan's face was pinched with sadness. Both girls went to speak, it was Shiva who silenced. "I never thought I would have someone in my life to call friend... Even sister." Shiva nodded, for Morrigan very much was like a sister, in personality and resemblance.

"Thank you, Morrigan. For everything." Shiva slowly stepped forward, knowing the witch was soon to be gone for good. Morrigan was at a loss and allowed Shiva to hug her. The witch seemed like she wanted to retreat at first, but she relaxed and returned the friendly embrace. The thought of being alone again already felt odd. Morrigan pulled back, composed.

"Goodbye, my friend. Remember what we agreed. Do not follow."

"You life is yours to live, I will not interfere." Shiva crossed her arms around herself, shoulders sagging from the stiffness she still felt. Morrigan turned into a raven and flew away over the ravaged capital.


	29. Totally Worth It

Borrowed Time, Ch 29 – Totally Worth It

AN: It's mostly cheery. Oh, and there's character death. What odd timing, right?

* * *

The nobles, wardens and their companions, and Queen and King-to-be were gathered in the throne room. Banners streamed overhead and the cheer everyone felt was the complete opposite of what they felt the last time they gathered there. Some of Shiva's companions dressed in finery – Leliana wore a yellow and red dress, much to the displeasure of Shiva's eyes, she hated such bright colors. Wynne wore a jade robe, accented with silver threads. Zevran had a burgundy tunic with large gold beads along the neckline. The others wore armor.

Alistair and Anora stood on either side of the throne, the space between them was like a chasm showing how forced their unity was. It was Anora who led the ceremony. "My friends, we are gathered here to celebrate the end of the Blight and to honor the wardens responsible for defeating the archdemon. Warden Loghain Mac Tir, and my betrothed, Warden Alistair Theirin." Alistair's eyes widened, he turned to his fiancée with color blooming in his cheeks. The queen's sweet responding smile made him even more uncomfortable. "Not to mention the wardens who fought bravely at Ostagar and were slain, as well as Warden Riordan, whose life was claimed at the Battle for Denerim. But the one who truly deserves commendation is the one who killed the archdemon and remains with us – an inspiration to all she saved. Ladies and gentlemen, I present the Hero of Ferelden." Anora smiled, gesturing to where Shiva stood. Loghain nudged her forward and was the only one who could hear her growl at the attention. Shiva walked forward to stand between Anora and Alistair and face the crowd, standing stiff and out-blushing Alistair. "The first Grey Warden to defeat the Blight since Garahel, for centuries ago." All those who gathered applauded. Shiva temporarily broke her scowl to give a half-hearted smirk in appreciation. "Shiva, I can hardly imagine how you could have aided Ferelden more. I think it appropriate to return the favor. Is there any boon you would request?"

"I only ask that the necessity of the Grey Wardens is not forgotten again." It seemed an appropriate boon – the disrespect Grey Wardens suffered after Ostagar caused the situation to be nearly impossible. It was mostly Loghain's fault, of course, but his conscription had been a turning point. There was no further opposition by anything but lowly bandits and darkspawn after that. If they could maintain the reverence they Grey Wardens had once again, future Blights could be ended as quickly. According to the Tevinter histories, there were two more Old Gods that stood the chance of corruption. Three, if Morrigan was wrong and her demon child could turn to the dark side again.

"Absolutely. Let it be known that the Arling of Amaranthine is now granted to the Grey Wardens. There they can rebuild, following the example of those that led before them." The members in the hall scattered into their own discussions. Anora turned to Shiva, Alistair approached the two of them as well.

"What are your plans? Will you remain with the Grey Wardens?" Anora's question was the same as in Alistair's mind.

With the nobles minding their own business, Shiva grew more relaxed. "Oh, I'll probably disappear under a rock with a thick wool blanket and a handsome admirer."

Anora paused, hoping for a more serious answer, but chuckled lightly. "A fine plan if I ever heard one."

"What?" Alistair exclaimed. "No ale?"

"Of course, plenty of ale, you twit!" Shiva put her hands on her hips in feigned outrage.

"I was about to say something is seriously wrong with that picture," he laced his words with an ongoing chuckle. "Well, we should let you get to your adoring public. There's a horde waiting outside, I suggest you go to them before they storm the gate," Alistair joked. It was good to see he had gotten past the coldness he showed her since the Landsmeet. This was the first time he wasn't repulsed by her company. Shiva smirked and descended the steps. She didn't get far before passing Loghain.

"Not a fan of the attention, I take it?" His posture was relaxed as he leaned against a support beam for the balcony. The smile he wore reached his eyes.

"Fuck no. That was bloody awkward! I don't know how you deal with court." Shiva glared at all the silk dresses and trimmed moustaches around her.

"I avoid it when I can. I was out of my element as Regent. I suppose that's obvious considering my actions. But that's not important, I was knocked off my pedestal – I'm sure you recall as well as I." He spoke with little bitterness, obviously pushing himself to make a joke out of mistakes that still pained him.

"Now to have you dismount your high horse," Shiva jested. She earned a light 'hmph' for it. "So what now? Going to supervise the little ones, make sure they get busy and make you a grandfather?"

"They can do that without me being around. In fact, that's how I'd prefer it," he shuddered. The horrible idea was worth it since he got a laugh out of her. "No, Anora assigned me as Grey Warden recruiter. If I don't get enough in the next six months, she threatened to call upon the Orlesian wardens."

"Better hop to it then, general!" She remembered what happened to the last person that threatened to call upon Orlais…

"I'll get to it when I'm ready to, woman. What about you? The Arling of Amaranthine is yours if you remain Warden-Commander, you know. The Teyrnir of Gwaren as well."

"What?" she wasn't faking her shock.

"Oh yes, my former title, even my riches and estate are yours if you express a desire for a title." That was one way of getting her in his bed, unfortunately it hardly counted since he wasn't able to share it.

"Oh, Maker no. I don't want a title. I kind of miss following orders instead of giving them, to tell you the truth." She looked at the ground during her admission. "I was planning on taking a break. Disappearing for a while." He went somber, giving her a curious stare. "I'll be around though. I won't be leaving Ferelden. If someone is keen enough to find me, I'll probably gladly return to adventure."

"Hmm. Have you even decided where you'll go?"

"Yes. But I'll not say anything further."

"I see. Well if you're going to abandon me in such a cold manner," he only half joked, "allow me to tell you now that you've earned my respect."

Shiva nodded, at a loss. "Likewise." He huffed, smiling sadly and shaking his head.

"Now off with you. There's a parade in your honor for you to growl about." She lightly shoved his arm as she walked away.

* * *

_Thank the bloody Maker that parade is over. _

Evening had turned to darkness, starlight pricked through the midnight blue sky. The party continued inside the palace and few nobles trickled out to the garden where Shiva sat on a stone bench. She stared at the fountain Riordan once decorated, flask in hand.

"You know, you're just making yourself an easy target for any lurking assassins," an Antivan accent purred.

"I'm bored. Let's kill someone."

Zevran threw his head back in a hearty laugh. "I knew I liked you for some reason. And soon we are to part ways," he said sadly. He sat beside her, placing a hand on her inner thigh. "Last chance to bed me." Shiva wrinkled her nose.

She had to wonder how he thought himself a skilled assassin when he couldn't even dodge a punch.

Leliana stood on the balcony above the garden, finding Shiva below as Zevran left in a hurry. She slowly descended the stairs.

"Hello." Shiva was pinching the bridge of her nose. She looked up at Leliana slowly, waving with the hand that held her flask. "You really don't like days at court, do you my love?" Shiva shook her head no.

"The stars are out," Leliana lisped. She got an agreeing hum next to her. "I loved the nights at camp where I would lay on the grass and just stare at the sky. I will be able to do so a while longer. I decided I want to travel, perhaps back to Orlais. What will you do, my love?"

"Disappear," the drunk warden mumbled. Leliana sighed.

"Is this where we part ways?"

"Ye-," Shiva slowed down, trying not to be too cold. This made one too many goodbyes for one day. "I'm afraid so."

"Did I mean anything to you?" The corners of Leliana's mouth sagged, pulling her full lips into a frown.

"Yes, you are a good friend."

"But you don't love me. With all the time we shared, you do not want to stay with me." Even with the extra month she had since their fight outside of Shiva's tent, they had only been intimate once and shared very little special time together other than that. Not that Leliana regretted putting this moment off, she enjoyed riding horseback with her arms around Shiva's waist – partly just being able to hold her, partly keeping her unsteady leader from falling off the mount. That was a memory she would be able to cherish.

"It wasn't supposed to be that much." Shiva winced at her own statement. Leliana turned her back to her.

"I see," she lisped. "Then this is goodbye." The Orlesian stood and stormed off.

* * *

Loghain made his way outside the palace. Zevran angrily passed him, wiping blood from under his nose. He watched the elf pass with a raised brow, but shrugged and kept walking. Leliana came from the same direction minutes later, catching the confused look Loghain gave her.

"Don't mind me," she sniffled.

"Is… something the matter?" It was an automatic reaction when he saw a woman crying, even if he didn't much care for this woman in particular.

Leliana took several deep breaths, Loghain nearly stepped back thinking the woman was going to lose her lunch. "Shiva is _heartless_," she seethed as she walked past him. His other eyebrow shot up to meet the first. They had been coming from… the garden?

He found Shiva passed out on the bench. There wasn't anyone around, he saw. He picked Shiva up with a grunt – Maker, he expected the woman to be lighter than _this_, granted she was muscled enough to be strong for her size and she still wore her armor. He had already carried her inside when he realized he had no idea where he was taking her. Unconscious warden leader and warden general stood in the middle of the hall, conscious warden was at a loss. Deciding making his way toward whatever possible destination there could be was better than standing there, he took another step but was halted when he heard a familiar voice – clearly female – behind him.

"What in the Maker's name are you doing, Loghain Mac Tir?" The old mage came around to stand in his path. "Oh, I see. Dragging your conquest to your chambers." Her rouge-lined lips were pursed and her arms crossed under the padded bosom of her robes.

"I _beg_ you pardon?" Dragging a woman with the weight of an ogre had him irate enough without whatever she was getting at.

"I've seen how you watch her. As foolish as she may be, I have hoped she would continue to avoid a rather unsavory-"

"Shut. Up." Loghain hoped the heat in his cheeks was from exertion, at least as far as Wynne figured. "She passed out in the garden, I'm bringing her somewhere she can remain undisturbed. Some of the nobles have sticky fingers and as soon as she wakes and finds her gold and whatever else gone, there will be a damn bloodbath. I _wasn't_ taking her to my chambers." Too bad she was the one to bring that location to his attention. He could have played quite a prank on the pirate, though he would never actually touch her in her current state. She truly had earned his respect, and much more.

"Where do you intend to take her then?"

"I haven't figured it out yet." Loghain glanced at the woman he held, her head lolled to the side – the position reminded him of her predicament after she killed the archdemon. He didn't want to think of that – how he almost lost her. The position and the memory made him feel uneasy, he tightened his hold around her, releasing her wrist so he could hook his arm behind her knees and hold her. He shrugged as much as he could with her cradled in his arms. "My study. She's been there before, she may even recognize it." He walked around the mage, listened to her light footsteps trailing behind him.

* * *

Shiva woke up in a study. The room seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn't figure out why. 'Morning' was grumbled from somewhere behind her. She craned her head to look, Loghain was sitting at a large desk, quill in hand dancing along the parchment pinned beneath. "Do you know where you are?" He spoke without looking up.

"On a couch in your estimable company?" He grinned, shaking his head that she was right in her vague response. Loki's head popped up from the floor, making her jump and squeal.

"Never thought I'd hear you make that noise," he laughed, setting the quill down.

"That's because you haven't taken your pants off in my presence."

He paused, peering at her skeptically. "I truly cannot tell when you are in jest or serious about such matters." She simply smirked so he continued dragging the chair beside her. "How do you feel?"

"Sleepy." She stretched and lay on her side, cuddling with a small pillow she pulled from under her head.

"No hangover?" It was surprising how well she looked, her color was good, her eyes were heavy lidded but not red. If she felt nauseated it wasn't so much that she couldn't smile through it.

"I don't get hangovers," she mumbled.

"Good, then you'll be ready to eat," he crossed the room to pull the velvet rope to ring the servant's bell.

"Not til I've been awake for hours, at least." She grimaced at the thought of food so soon.

"You'll change your mind quick I'm sure. I've seen how you eat." He turned and gave her a wink.

* * *

So he was right – she could eat like a horse. He escorted her to the castle entrance after breakfast, she insisted she shouldn't drag out her stay there. They stood a bit awkwardly by the doors. She was shifting, trying to find a way to lead up to a decent goodbye.

"You remember how you would have executed me if you'd won the Landsmeet?"

"Mhm," he hummed.

"If I'm being too forward, you may do so now." Before he could resist, she captured him in a kiss. Her hands were around his neck, fingers laced together in his hair. The kiss wasn't returned, just as she expected, but he wasn't pulling away. He was tense and his arms remained by his sides as she slowly massaged his bottom lip with both of hers. The instant she released him he took a quick step back, clearing his throat. He was looking over her shoulder to avoid eye contact, and was completely unreadable.

"Goodbye, Warden."

_Well, it could have gone worse. _

She bit her lip, still feeling the kiss as she left the castle.

_Totally worth it. _

* * *

A guard on the grounds of the castle heard the light _pit, pat_ of drops falling on his helm. The sky above him was blue, no rain fell so he wondered what was on him. He patted the top of his head, pulling his glove away to see drops of… he couldn't make out what. Thinking someone could have been dumping a chamber pot above him, he quickly stepped to the side, only to nearly walk into some debris falling and crashing on the stone steps. It was a small cup.

He cocked his head to the side, standing from the crouch he bent in to scoop it up with. He looked for the windows above him, seeing if someone had dropped it while taking tea.

Several floors above, Wynne slumped over in her chair. Her head leaned against the window, the hand that had been holding her teacup rested limply on the frame she had used as a table. Tea was spilled and still dripped from the saucer over the side of the window.

A servant walked in after knocking, bent to take the saucer and look for the cup, before realizing what she presumed was a sleeping old woman breathed no more. The young elf gasped and scurried out of the room, unsure what to do.

The spirit of Compassion ghosted overhead, all energy used to sustain the old mage was spent, its essence waned as it returned to the Fade.


	30. Trouble in Gwaren

Borrowed Time, Ch 30 – Trouble in Gwaren

AN: Smutty time! Don't like, don't read. Oh, and the place Shiva's at is totally made up.

* * *

It had been two months since the Blight ended and Shiva disappeared. Rumors circulated everywhere. She went to the Deep Roads, Antiva, Orlais. All of the above, none of the above. That she was hidden in Alistair's basement as his mistress. They were hard to keep up with and each less credible than the last.

Loghain had been staying in the castle for the past three weeks. Raiders docked in Gwaren and were defecating the city that had been his for so long. The only person he knew that successfully dealt with Raiders was Shiva, but she was nowhere to be found. She said she was still in Ferelden, but the messengers he sent to find her were unable to. They searched everywhere he said, all the places they had traveled, there were even several visits to the Peak. She had actually managed to disappear. He remained at the castle until he heard news, from either his messengers or from Gwaren.

Remaining under the same roof as Maric's bastard was trying. The whelp still hated him. He told Shiva after the parade that he intended to execute Loghain when the Blight was over, that he didn't change his mind until he saw him fighting the archdemon. It was a first step toward redemption, so Alistair allowed him to live. That, and Anora was happier with her father around. She would excuse herself from dinner early so she could join Loghain in his study where he dined. It became too uncomfortable with him and Alistair at one table.

Other than that, the days felt empty. He spent a few weeks recruiting until Ser Cauthrien called his attention to the incidents in Gwaren. Since then, that had been on his mind. A new Teyrn had yet to be appointed.

He was roused by a knock at the door of his study.

"Enter." A thin lad no older than twenty came in panting as if he had run from the city gates to his very door.

"My lord, a message for you. We know the location of the Hero of Ferelden. She is in Cwenhill, lives in the smithy at the edge of town called Hardy Tools."

"Cwenhill, that place was burned to the ground some years ago," Loghain muttered, half to himself.

"Yes, my lord. Refugees from Lothering have rebuilt it since before the Blight ended. By the time the hero settled there, it was habitable again." Cwenhill was just off the center of the Bannorn, to the western side. He could get there in just over a day on horseback. It was a damn good excuse to get out of that hellish castle, away from that damned buffoon he would call son-in-law in a few months.

* * *

_Damn the pouring rain._

Rain pelted down the back of Loghain's neck and soaked his gambeson, which was already clinging to his body. He hunched forward, gripping the reigns as he jerked his head to the side to get his wet locks out of his eyes. It was hard enough to see as the world around him was grey with storm and he had to constantly blink the fat drops from his lashes. His breath came out in gusts of white smoke and he set his jaw against shivering. He would not have been so cold were he on foot, the speed of the horse caused the wind to whip around him, snatching warmth away with it. It would be in line with the Maker's dark sense of humor to have him come down with an illness that would take his life before the taint could. _Wouldn't that be something_, he thought bitterly.

But he was on his way to see _her_. The mare's hooves squelched and thumped along the road through puddles. Large stones littered the hills they traversed. Loghain grit his teeth each time the mare slipped in the mud, not falling thus far, but jarring him enough to make his stomach nearly turn. He had better slow her down before she took a fall she, and Maker forbid he, would never rise from.

No sooner had he thought it were they at the crest of a hill and the horse slipped once more, landing on a bony knee. The speed of their fall launched both horse and man forward. Loghain landed on his chest, sliding forward so mud and water rushed down his armor through the neck. As soon as he stilled, he shoved himself up to his knees, sputtering from what had splashed in his mouth. He turned his head in the direction of the frantic whinnying and crossed to the line of stones his horse sprawled on.

She kicked one of her two unbroken legs, rolled her eye to Loghain and the skies above. The horse cracked her head on the rock she still used as a pillow, her body was bent by the larger stone that was under her, most likely cracking several ribs. Rain washed the blood that poured from the mare's wound, on closer inspection it seemed her eye had busted when the socket caved in on contact with the rocks. Loghain rounded to the other side, knowing it was all he could do, and cleaved the top of the horse's spine with his sword. It took several strikes to kill her, afterwards he was chilled and sickened by more than the weather. He used the sword to cut the straps that secured his pack to the saddle.

Maker damn it! He would have been there within the hour at that speed. Traveling on foot in this weather would triple that. He didn't want to stop - against all the practicality that usually ruled his decisions he marched on, more grim than he expected to feel on this trip.

* * *

Shiva set the ingredients for dinner along the table she used for preparation, lining the nug meat, creamy wine, deep mushrooms, elfroot, and various spices. She would do the damn dish more justice than Bhelen's heavy handed cook did. She still felt she had to scrape the taste from her tongue at the memory.

It had poured most of the day. The village would be flooded if it wasn't on the subtle swell of the wide hill. She blamed the rain for her good mood, rain always cheered her up and had even brought her luck at times. She couldn't believe how the peaceful life made her feel - well, peaceful. In the very house that held such horrid memories, no less. It was where she lived with her master. But she had always found his trade therapeudic, perhaps it was even what seeded her enjoyment for beating the shit out of everything. Her arms had been sore when she first returned to the daily routine over the forge and workbench. Hammering and sharpening were mindless tasks, and now cooking was an art she could end the day with.

She remembered she didn't draw the sliding door closed before she went inside, the tools were laying about outside and with all the rebuilding that was going on, she wouldn't put it past some bastard to steal something. The ingredients were left on the counter, she was ready to head out the door before she saw Loki peeking over the table, licking his chops.

"Loki, I swear if you eat anything while I step out, I will remove the flesh from your rump to replace it!" The dog whined and slunk back to the corner where the mound of spare blankets lay, claimed as his bed.

It was dark outside, obviously nighttime even with the entire day being gloomy from the weather. The world would be black if not for the torches that still burned under the overhangs of each building. She stopped when a familiar mountain of silverite shuffled into town. He didn't see her, he was peering through his soaked mop of hair, trying to get his bearings. The torch jutting from the post at her shop was never lit, so he likely wouldn't be able to make out her shape. She stepped to the edge where the thatched roof just protected her from the rain and whistled sharply. His whole body shifted toward the sound.

"Get your ass over here, fool."

He couldn't help but light up when he saw her, she looked every bit like a scolding mother. Her hair was pulled back, leaving her fringe framing her face. The way her hands were on her hips drew the oversized white tunic she wore to hug her curves. Her feet were planted shoulder width apart and a hip cocked out slightly. Eyes followed him with a glint reflecting something between severe and amused while he stepped under the roof beside her. Rain dripped from his nose and locks of hair, rivulets ran down his armor like silver streams. She grabbed the rag from over her shoulder and flopped it on his head.

"Hello to you, too," he muttered, but was unable to keep himself from smiling. The rag covered the top of his head so all she could see was from his nose down, she giggled.

"What were you doing out there? You know what? That can wait, you need to change out of that. Slide that door shut for me and I'll fetch you something." He did as she commanded, securing the door with the padlock that hung from the ring and met its twin on the wall.

Loki paraded out of the room with a tunic, trousers, socks draped on his back and... smallclothes on his head. A grinning muzzle, one eye and an ear stuck out from the undergarment. Loghain's right eyebrow shot up to his hairline. Shiva peeked from the door, tossing a towel his way.

"Don't make that face, you're soaked all over! I mean, you can go commando if you wish, the choice is yours." He couldn't believe she was speaking of that. "And they're clean, I promise." He felt disappointed at that, damn his new wave of lust. He swallowed hard, reaching for the buckles of his armor.

Shiva was back at the prep table, skillet over the fire so she could cook. Luckily the hound had taken her threat seriously and she did have enough for company. Loghain walked in while she was bent over the fire.

Commando definitely wasn't an option. She was wearing tights under the tunic, the cloth rested on the curve of her rear. She looked beautiful - her skin was clean of dirt and sweat, something he rarely saw when they traveled together, and was glowing from the firelight. He definitely needed every piece of clothing offered to contain himself. The last thing he needed was her intentional teasing after proof of his attraction to her, followed by the same rebuttal she had done to the assassin. She turned to him and smiled.

"Don't stand there like a stranger, put your stuff there," she said gesturing at the towel she placed on the top of the dresser. "Make yourself at home. I won't tell you what I'm making since our last experience with the dish was... less than savory," she hinted.

"Ah," was all he said. He placed his sopping equipment where she gestured and sat on the divan, near the fire. "You asked me why I'm here."

"Yes, I still wonder."

"There has been trouble in Gwaren," he began. "Raiders have nested there, I can't find out why. They've been causing trouble. None of the guards can make any decent arrests, those of the crew they do capture are low lives. All we've managed to find out is the most troublesome crew belongs to a Captain Isabela."

"Ugh," Shiva whipped her head back and forth like she tasted something awful, but she hasn't had to try the dish yet so it was obviously the news.

"You know her, I take it?"

"Yeah, bitch was my rival when I was a captain. I crossed her once or twice but spared her, so I could rub her nose in my success, as well as the fear my legend invoked." She wore a smug smirk.

"Cailan told me you were some vigilante among the raiders. That's why I have come to you for help." He remembered that conversation. It was right after he met her at Ostagar, when she was leaving his tent. That was possibly the first time he had seen a woman turn Cailan down. Now that he knew more about Shiva, he could better appreciate her snappy refusal to the king. At Ostagar, he wasn't sure that was something he needed to be concerned about or not.

"And I'll gladly help. That harlot has had it coming for a long time. Do you know what ship is hers?"

"No, we haven't seen any logged but merchant ships. It could be any one."

"Or perhaps none if she hasn't found a replacement. I destroyed her ship at Denerim. The day after Zev and I robbed you, in fact."

He 'humphed'. "I heard about that. A ship exploded at the docks. How in the Black City did you manage that?"

"Qunari powder. It explodes when set alight. My signature," she shrugged and swiped her hands together to dust the spices off. "Tea?" She was already setting a pot of water over the fire when he nodded. A few moments of silence passed while she glided around her kitchen, icy blue eyes set on her all the while.

"Why are you smiling like that?" he had to ask. Her expression was peculiar and adorable, he realized.

"I've never felt so wifey before," she chuckled.

"You feel it too, hm?" And that thought had struck him. He felt a pool of warmth in his chest, not at all displeased by the idea. It felt like an achievable goal while he watched her.

Loki hopped up on the furniture beside Loghain, pressing his wet nose in his hand.

"He has the worst manners! Probably from you feeding him ham and telling him stories all the time.," Shiva fussed.

He snorted, scratching behind the dog's ears. "My fault, is it? Not at all because you treat him as if he was some bullshit domestic breed. And I gave him ham once."

"And you gave him duck, roast, cheese... At least five separate occasions too."

"I didn't tell him to hop around the furniture!" he argued.

_Oh Maker, it is like we're married. _

Both of them were trying to hide their smiles, even Loki picked up on the humor of their argument and panted happily in Loghain's face. While the meat was cooking through and they argued, she stood before him, leaning on the table. One foot was propped on the chair and had she been wearing a skirt, he would have been blessed with a magnificent view. His eyes trailed up her thigh. She was sitting there like a feast and he was becoming a very ravenous man.

* * *

Dinner was considerably less repulsive than the time they had nug steak at the Royal Palace at Orzammar. In fact, Shiva was quite the cook. Loghain would have refused to eat something she cooked that time last year.

"I should head out while the rain is light. Where is the inn?" he was about to move to gather his belongings.

"You don't have a room yet? Well why don't you stay here instead of spending money for a place to rest." Shiva scanned the area to find a place for him. He could take the divan, it was close to the fire. He'd likely be warmer than her since her bed was across the room. Unfortunately, that meant she wouldn't be able to sleep naked.

"We're not in camp anymore, it would be inappropriate." No matter how tempting it was…

"We could sleep outside, if that would fix it," she joked.

"So eager to be near me tonight, are you?" He didn't expect her to bashfully shift and rivet her eyes to the floor.

"Very well, if you find my company so disagreeable, the inn is three buildings down from the tavern. Hardy Hole across the street has rooms as well, but I would be hesitant to rest there, were I you." Her hand waved to gesture with her directions.

He closed in on her, resting a hand on her arm. "Your company is far from disagreeable. Have I not already told you I enjoy it more than I ever expected to?" She shrugged with the shoulder his hand wasn't near, biting her lip and still not meeting his eyes.

He realized he wanted nothing more than to keep basking in the warmth of her home, her presence. Between dinner, the blazing fire and the heat of their shared taint, he felt as at ease and languid as a cat.

Desire seized him stronger than it had in months, and he gripped both of her arms and pulled her near. She sharply inhaled, jolted enough to look as far as his chest and neck. Her eyes were wide and her lips were parted when he ducked to even himself with her height and kiss her. If he could have changed anything about what they shared before, he would have returned that kiss she had given him before they parted ways. It was a simple tease, but it had left him in shock, feeling a tingle shooting down the sides of his neck originating where their lips had met. He could only hope he was capable of causing the same reaction in her.

It certainly seemed to. Her eyes slid closed when she recovered from the surprise, her arms encircled him as his hands moved to the sides of her face.

They pulled back enough to continue with slow, feather light brushes of their lips. "Stay," she commanded. She held him close, unwilling to let go.

He nodded in obedience, pecking more kisses across her cheek to her neck. She walked backwards until the back of her knees hit the bed. With a fist curled around the collar of his tunic, she scooted back, bringing him crawling on the bed with her. They melted into each other when they resumed their kiss.

He pulled back from her, leaning on his elbow and knees. With his other hand he gently pulled at the tie to release her hair, staring at her face all the while. Pink tinged a line across her cheeks, her lips were parted as her chest slowly rose and fell with her deep breaths. Her eyes shone a rich cobalt color. He had yet to see every shade her irises turned - it varied across a fascinating spectrum of blue. Just like Maric, it was as if he was lost at sea when he stared into those eyes. If this was the fate his friend suffered, no wonder he never returned.

Loghain threaded his fingers through the hair by the back of her neck, not disturbing the locks that draped on the pillow like a black wing in the snow. The heat in her hair and neck warmed his hand, everything that wasn't in contact with her felt cold, so he pulled her face back to his.

Their lips melded together, he licked her bottom lip and felt her bite the tip of his tongue gently before sucking it in. He ran his tongue along hers, feeling at the same time her fingers rubbing his neck, dipping under the fabric to explore skin not revealed to her. He ran his hand down her body, palm rubbing her breast, stomach, and hip as he moved to grasp her thigh, pulling it so she would wrap her leg around him.

She shifted her hips to brush against him teasingly. Without breaking their kiss, he exhaled sharply through his nose at the contact. Quenching the desire to feel soft skin, he trailed his hand under her tunic. He cupped her breast, realizing not the first time that she hadn't been wearing anything under her tunic. She timidly moaned when he cupped her, pressing her hips into him again and feeling him press the noticeable bulge in his trousers against her. Shiva bit his lip lightly when he pinched her nipple and she had her hands under his shirt, feeling up his back. They reluctantly parted to shed each other of their shirts.

Shiva scooted forward into his lap, straddling him and pressing her bare chest against his when he wrapped her in a tight embrace. His mouth went to her neck, he used his nose to push her hair out of the way so he could kiss her there. Leaning forward, he laid her back down and pulled back, running his hands from her shoulders, over her breasts, then down to the hem of her tights before he peeled the them off. The pirate wore no knickers underneath, no wonder they hugged her rear that way. A smirk grew on his lips, she was sitting up on her elbows daring him to explore her body while teasingly concealing her sex with closed thighs. They were pushed apart with a hand on each knee, he reached down and swept his middle finger between her nub and entrance. Warm juices coated his finger, he slid it in before it warmed his digit completely – he wanted her to feel the cold invasion. Loghain placed a hand beside her shoulder, palm flat to support his weight as he leaned forward, pressing his finger deeper inside her while he lowered his head to capture a nipple between his teeth.

The damn trousers he wore were confining, he would rip the wretched things off if it didn't mean releasing her. The small moans he was rewarded with convinced him to keep driving his digit into her, her whole body rocked with the weight he put behind it. Her back arched, pressing her breast against his face while he teased. He pulled back with a wet suckling noise, her hand ran down his chest through coarse hair to ghost over the bindings for his trousers and firmly grasp his heavy groin through the material.

He pressed into her palm, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. Slim hands traced his manhood before taking the trousers off of him. She considered breaking the spell of the moment by telling him how good he looked in knickers. As if he read her mind, he tried to scowl through his grin and covered her mouth before she had a chance to speak it. She giggled into his hand, the motion of her laughter caused her breasts to capture his attention. Shiva pressed her sex against his, wetting his shaft through the cloth he still wore. His cock twitched when her moist lips rubbed against him. He could feel her hook a thumb under his smallclothes and start pulling them down. He helped her shed himself of them the rest of the way and slipped his arm under her neck.

Their bodies were pressed against each other, Loghain bit his cheek to hold on – their passion was already threatening to consume him. It didn't help when the back of her hand touched his cock, it was a strange move until he realized she was touching herself. He knew why when she coated his length in her juices, he practically saw stars when he shut his eyes tight at the feel of her stroking him. Their lips were so close they inhaled each exhale emitted from the other, much like when she saved him from falling over the cliff.

Though she held him with one arm and grasped his length like a leash with the other hand, she was letting him fall. Nothing else could have explained the euphoria he felt, it was hardly believable mere human touch could feel that damn good. He could have let her stroke him to completion, from the way she watched him it seemed she wouldn't have minded – pleasure rebounded from him to her, but he couldn't leave her unsatisfied. Such neglect would be a crime fit for execution.

He stilled the hand that was pumping his erection, grasping it in his so he could bring it to his face and kiss the soft skin on the back of her hand, while positioning himself for entrance. Ice blue eyes met lyrium blue ones, she moaned deeply as his thick length slid inside her. Both nearly closed their eyes at the pleasure, but neither wanted to break eye contact – they kept watching each other through half-closed eyelids. Shiva's legs wrapped around him, Loghain breathed deeply while he rocked his hips. The warmth enveloping his cock was unbelievable and the way her walls clamped around him each time she sobbed another moan nearly made him spill too soon.

Each hard thrust had her digging her nails into his back, their bodies pulsed together like a beating heart. The movement of every muscle brought them more pleasure and had them hungering for even more than that. Shiva drew her legs further back, Loghain hooked his arms under each leg, folding her enough so he could slam into her with more speed. Despite the cold in the corner of the room her bed was, their bodies had a sheen of sweat. Loghain bunched his muscles like a panther ready to spring, instead he only launched forward enough to send her body rocking back. She grasped his hips, guiding him into her – not that he needed the extra encouragement.

His breaths became low rumbles in his chest with each slap of skin, Shiva quieted herself to hear them, enjoying the evidence of his satisfaction. She couldn't keep quiet when the unexpected wave washed over her, her back arched enough to have her back away from him slightly. He snapped his hips forward and grasped her hips to push her down to fully sheath him again.

_So there's the barbarism…_

She didn't mind a bit considering she was still soaring from her orgasm and he was still having his way with her. With a long groan, he jerked more, thrusts becoming erratic before he erupted inside her. Shiva rocked her hips to encourage him to spill every drop. Loghain stilled and rolled to lay beside her, leaving an arm draped across her stomach.

Shiva always felt silly when she referred to sex as 'lovemaking' but with Loghain it was appropriate. Their chests rose and fell with their breathing, it seemed he was asleep but she saw his eyes staring past her breasts to the wall across.

"What's on your mind?"

"Raiders. Only good thing about them is how their trouble forced me to seek you out." His fingers idly traced a circle around her navel. It tickled, she considered moving his hand away, but the touch was so unlike anything she expected from him it was tolerable. "I've always wanted to ask one something once I got my hands on one."

"I am no longer a Raider, but perhaps its something I would know?" She watched him over the rise of the pillow between them.

"Maric disappeared at sea, I wonder if it was Raiders who caused it."

"I'm sorry my friend. Many claim to have taken the ship down, captured him, et cetera. All false."

He sighed deeply. "After all this time of him being gone, especially with what has happened, I'm almost relieved there is nothing new to learn of him."

"You still miss him," she observed, to which he nodded.

"Our friendship was strained for many years in the beginning for reasons I wont get into. But he was the best leader of Ferelden as long as I have lived. Anora hasn't reached her prime of rule yet, though she is very capable. I probably will not live to see her lead a golden age in my lifetime."

Shiva sighed, thinking of his mortality, which scared her more than her own. Loghain brushed the fringe away from her eyes. "I did not intend to make you somber." He tuned her to her side so he could draw her close. "All things considering, it has been a wonderful night. If there is yet another wish to be granted unto me it's that you enjoy our time as much as I am." She smiled and kissed him.

"I am. Though I would not enjoy if you got sick from your dancing in the rain so you must rest now, my l-" Bit her lip at her slip of the tongue. His breath hitched, but he said nothing since she was clearly not ready to admit such depth of feeling. It was probably for the best. He took the guaranteed path to her smile.

"How did you know I danced out there? Did you see me?" She giggled.

"No. How about you rise from the bed and repeat?" She tried to imagine what kind of dance he would do while nude. Raise his hands to waltz with an invisible partner, jewels swinging to the tune in his head? Would he lace his fingers behind his head and roll his hips in her face? Maker, she was getting ready for round two with such fantasies.

"Maker no, it's cold in here." He chuckled, kissed her temple while ignoring her attempt to pout through the smile. Both fell into silence and eventual sleep.


End file.
